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DECISIVE  BATTLES 
OF  THE  WORLD 


EDWARD   SHEPHERD  CREASY 


WITH  A  SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION, 
AND  SUPPLEMENTARY  CHAPTERS 
ON  THE  BATTLES  OF  GETTYSBURG, 
SEDAN,    SANTIAGO     AND    MANILA 

By  JOHN  GILMER  SPEED 


REVISED-  EDITION 


>.^c 


JJC^.)XO)XCJX»SSS 


THE 


P^J^^^k^^<7>\  COLONIAL  M5^^^ 


-v\ 


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Copyright,  1900, 
Bv  THE  COLONIAL  PRESS. 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


CREASY'S  "  Fifteen  Decisive  Battles  of  the  World  from 
Marathon  to  Waterloo  "  is  a  famous  book  which  is 
not  merely  lodged  in  libraries,  but  is  read  and  re-read. 
It  is  not  only  an  authority,  a  final  authority  in  one  aspect,  but 
the  stories  the  writer  tells  are  as  interesting  in  narrative  as 
human  struggle  is  itself  interesting,  while  his  deductions  as 
to  the  effects  are  as  profound  as  philosophy  and  as  sound  as 
fact-entrenched  truth.  To  be  sure,  historical  students  will 
differ  with  him,  now  and  again,  in  his  selection  of  this  battle 
and  that  as  more  decisive  than  others.  Such  differences  of 
opinion  are  inevitable  in  a  world  where  the  minds  of  men  are 
free ;  but  these  differences  in  no  sense  detract  from  the  value 
of  Creasy's  work,  and  his  selections  are  authoritative  to-day 
because,  though  his  book  was  published  almost  half  a  century 
ago  and  has  been  read  and  studied  and  discussed  ever  since, 
no  one  has  made  better  selections,  no  one  has  on  this  subject 
given  us  a  better  book. 

Apart  from  the  scholarliness  and  literary  skill  of  Creasy's 
work,  there  is  another  reason  why  this  great  book  has  en- 
during value.  The  writer  was  essentially  fair-minded.  He 
was  educated  as  a  lawyer,  but  when  he  undertook  this  task 
he  held  a  brief  for  neither  side  in  any  of  the  cases  at  issue. 
He  had  also  been  a  judge,  and  when  he  became  the  military 
critic  and  historian  he  was  thoroughly  judicial  in  his  attitude 
and  frame  of  mind.  He  was  not  English  in  his  attitude,  nor 
French,  nor  German — he  was  a  cosmopolitan  observer  look- 
ing at  the  mighty  consequences  of  great  happenings.  And 
so  Creasy,  though  he  had  published  books  before,  and  though 
he  published  much  afterwards,  completed  in  1851,  in  his  "  Fif- 
teen Decisive  Battles,"  the  work  upon  which  rests  his  enduring 
fame. 

In  his  own  preface  to  his  book,  as  will  presently  be  seen, 


00 A 109 


IV 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Creasy  half-way  apologized  for  publishing  such  a  book  at 
that  time.  Europe  was  then  in  profound  peace.  The  forces 
which  had  struggled  at  Waterloo,  Creasy's  last  battle,  by  their 
sacrifices  gave  Europe  a  long  season  of  repose,  a  repose  which 
the  peace  societies  hoped  would  never  be  broken.  This,  how- 
ever, was  only  a  very  vain  hope,  for  only  a  few  years  later 
the  peace  of  Europe  was  rudely  broken  by  the  conflict  of  arms 
in  the  Crimea,  and  a  universal  war  was  barely  averted.  And  in 
the  Crimea  they  had  battles,  too— battles  of  great  moment  and 
consequence— in  Alma,  Inkerman,  Balaklava,  and  the  siege 
of  Sevastopol.  None  of  these,  however,  seemed  to  make  an 
addendum  to  Creasy's  work  necessary.  But  before  twenty 
years  had  passed,  before  even  the  death  of  the  distinguished 
author,  there  were  two  momentous  battles  as  great  in  their 
consequences  as  any  in  Creasy's  list.  These  were  Gettysburg 
and  Sedan.  To  this  probably  Creasy  agreed,  and  it  has  often 
been  wondered  that  he  did  not  himself  add  them  to  his  book. 
He  did  not,  however;  and  so,  in  this  new  edition  of  Creasy's 
great  work,  accounts  of  these  battles  are  added,  without  any 
apology  and  also  without  any  effort  to  imitate  Creasy's  style 
of  writing  or  presentation. 

And  only  last  year  there  was  a  short  campaign  of  the  Amer- 
icans against  the  Spanish  which  was  decisive  in  the  highest 
sense,  for  it  ended  forever  Spain's  colonial  empire,  an  empire 
which  once  embraced  countless  islands  of  the  seas,  besides 
more  than  half  a  hemisphere.  Manila  may  have  been  the 
decisive  battle;  or  it  may  have  been  Santiago.  We  are  too 
close  to  these  events  to  judge  with  accuracy,  and  we  shall, 
therefore,  add  the  campaign  to  the  book  as  "  Manila  and  San- 
tiago," and  leave  it  to  others  to  decide  where  the  great  and  de- 
cisive battle  was  fought. 

It  is  a  rather  singular  thing  that  in  a  work  describing  eigh- 
teen great  decisive  battles  three  of  these  should  be  those  in 
which  the  United  States  troops  were  engaged;  for  the  Ameri- 
cans have  always  be«n  a  peace-loving  people,  and  the  great 
triumphs  which  have  made  them  powerful  have  been  the  tri- 
umphs of  peace.  But  they  won  their  liberty  by  war,  they  have 
preserved  it  by  war,  and  by  war  they  have  rescued  their  op- 
pressed neighbors  from  a  mediaeval  tyranny  which  these  neigh- 
bors were  powerless  to  overthrow.  This  last  war  was  not 
great  in  the  quantity  of  fighting,  nor  by  reason  of  the  numbers 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION.  v 

engaged,  but  it  was  vastly  great  in  the  consequences  to  which 
it  will  lead.  Spain  has  lost  all  of  her  colonies,  and  the  United 
States  has  assumed  grave  responsibilities  not  contemplated 
by  the  fathers  of  the  repubHc.  What  these  consequences  will 
be,  none  but  a  prophet  can  say. 

During  twenty-three  hundred  years  Creasy  found  only  fif- 
teen battles  which  he  called  decisive  in  the  highest  sense.  Be- 
tween his  great  battles  often  two  centuries  would  elapse.  And 
all  these  happened  during  the  ages  when  all  men  were  more 
or  less  soldiers.  In  the  eighty-four  years  since  Waterloo  there 
have  been  three  conflicts  that  have  been,  judged  even  by  a  Creasy 
standard,  decisive.  This  does  not  mean  that  the  world  has 
grown  more  warlike  or  more  belligerent;  on  the  contrary,  it 
proves  that  we  do  not  go  to  war  as  lightly  as  once  we  did, 
and  that  now  when  we  have  to  fight  there  is  something  to 
fight  about.  It  proves  also  that  modern  science  enables  us 
to  decide  these  conflicts  quickly  and  with  certainty.  War  has 
been  made  less  dangerous  because  it  is  more  dangerous. 

Sir  Edward  Shepherd  Creasy,  the  author  of  this  great  work, 
was  bom  in  England  in  1812.  He  was  educated  at  Eton  and 
Cambridge,  and  was  called  to  the  bar  at  Lincoln's  Inn  in  1837. 
He  was  for  a  little  while  an  assistant  judge  of  the  Westminster 
Sessions  Court,  but  gave  this  up  in  1840  to  become  Professor 
of  History  in  the  University  of  London,  It  was  while  he  held 
this  post  that  he  did  the  historical  and  critical  work  which  will 
preserve  his  name  among  those  of  the  great  English  writers. 
In  i860  he  became  Chief  Justice  of  Ceylon,  and  served  as  such 
for  ten  years.  He  returned  to  England  in  1870,  much  broken 
in  health,  and  died  eight  years  later.  After  his  return  home 
he  wrote  and  published  several  books,  but  none  of  them  re- 
ceived the  same  share  of  favor  that  was  accorded  to  his  "  Fif- 
teen Decisive  Battles." 

John  Gilmer  Speed. 


THE   AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 


IT  is  an  honorable  characteristic  of  the  spirit  of  this  age,  that 
projects  of  violence  and  warfare  are  regarded  among  civ- 
ilized states  with  gradually  increasing  aversion.    The  Uni- 
versal Peace  Society  certainly  does  not,  and  probably  never 
will,  enroll  the  majority  of  statesmen  among  its  members.    But 
even  those  who  look  upon  the  appeal  of  battle  as  occasionally 
unavoidable  in  international  controversies,  concur  in  thinking 
it  a  deplorable  necessity,  only  to  be  resorted  to  when  all  peace- 
ful modes  of  arrangement  have  been  vainly  tried,  and  when 
the  law  of  self-defence  justifies  a  state,  like  an  individual,  in 
using  force  to  protect  itself  from  imminent  and  serious  injury. 
For  a  writer,  therefore,  of  the  present  day  to  choose  battles 
for  his  favorite  topic,  merely  because  they  were  battles ;  merely 
because  so  many  myriads  of  troops  were  arrayed  in  them,  and 
so  many  hundreds  or  thousands  of  human  beings  stabbed, 
hewed,  or  shot  each  other  to  death  during  them,  would  argue 
strange  weakness  or  depravity  of  mind.     Yet  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  a  fearful  and  wonderful  interest  is  attached  to 
these  scenes  of  carnage.    There  is  undeniable  greatness  in  the 
disciplined  courage,  and  in  the  love  of  honor,  which  makes 
the  combatants  confront  agony  and  destruction.     And  the 
powers  of  the  human  intellect  are  rarely  more  strongly  dis- 
played than  they  are  in  the  commander  who  regulates,  arrays, 
and  wields  at  his  will  these  masses  of  armed  disputants ;  who, 
cool,  yet  daring  in  the  midst  of  peril,  reflects  on  all,  and  pro- 
vides for  all,  ever  ready  with  fresh  resources  and  designs,  as 
the  vicissitudes  of  the  storm  of  slaughter  require.     But  these 
qualities,  however  high  they  may  appear,  are  to  be  found  in 
the  basest  as  well  as  in  the  noblest  of  mankind.    Catiline  was 
as  brave  a  soldier  as  Leonidas,  and  a  much  better  ofificer.  Alva 
surpassed  the  Prince  of  Orange  in  the  field;  and  Suwarrow 


viii  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

was  the  military  superior  of  Kosciusko.     To  adopt  the  em- 
phatic words  of  Byron, 

"  'Tis  the  cause  makes  all, 
Degrades  or  hallows  courage  in  its  fall." 

There  are  some  battles,  also,  which  claim  our  attention, 
independently  of  the  moral  worth  of  the  combatants,  on  ac- 
count of  their  enduring  importance,  and  by  reason  of  the  prac- 
tical influence  on  our  own  social  and  political  condition,  which 
we  can  trace  up  to  the  results  of  those  engagements.  They 
have  for  us  an  abiding  and  actual  interest,  both  while  we  in- 
vestigate the  chain  of  causes  and  effects  by  which  they  have 
helped  to  make  us  what  we  are,  and  also  while  we  speculate 
on  what  we  probably  should  have  been,  if  any  one  of  these 
battles  had  come  to  a  dififerent  termination.  Hallam  has  ad- 
mirably expressed  this  in  his  remarks  on  the  victory  gained 
by  Charles  Martel,  between  Tours  and  Poictiers,  over  the  in- 
vading Saracens. 

He  says  of  it  that  "  it  may  justly  be  reckoned  among  those 
few  battles  of  which  a  contrary  event  would  have  essentially 
varied  the  drama  of  the  world  in  all  its  subsequent  scenes ; 
with  Marathon,  Arbela,  the  Metaurus,  Chalons,  and  Leipsic." 
It  was  the  perusal  of  this  note  of  Hallam's  that  first  led  me 
to  the  consideration  of  my  present  subject.  I  certainly  differ 
from  that  great  historian  as  to  the  comparative  importance  of 
some  of  the  battles  which  he  thus  enumerates,  and  also  of  some 
which  he  omits.  It  is  probable,  indeed,  that  no  two  historical 
inquirers  would  entirely  agree  in  their  lists  of  the  Decisive 
Battles  of  the  World.  Dififerent  minds  will  naturally  vary  in 
the  impressions  which  particular  events  make  on  them,  and 
in  the  degree  of  interest  with  which  they  watch  the  career  and 
reflect  on  the  importance  of  dififerent  historical  personages. 
But  our  concurring  in  our  catalogues  is  of  little  moment,  pro- 
vided we  learn  to  look  on  these  great  historical  events  in  the 
spirit  which  Hallam's  observations  indicate.  Those  remarks 
should  teach  us  to  watch  how  the  interests  of  many  states  are 
often  involved  in  the  collisions  between  a  few;  and  how  the 
eflfect  of  those  collisions  is  not  limited  to  a  single  age,  but  may 
give  an  impulse  which  will  sway  the  fortunes  of  successive 
generations  of  mankind.  Most  valuable,  also,  is  the  mental 
discipline  which  is  thus  acquired,  and  by  which  we  are  trained 


THE   AUTHOR'S   PREFACE  ix 

not  only  to  observe  what  has  been  and  what  is,  but  also  to 
ponder  on  what  might  have  been.* 

We  thus  learn  not  to  judge  of  the  wisdom  of  measures  too 
exclusively  by  the  results.  We  learn  to  apply  the  juster  stand- 
ard of  seeing  what  the  circumstances  and  the  probabilities  were 
that  surrounded  a  statesman  or  a  general  at  the  time  when  he 
decided  on  his  plan :  we  value  him,  not  by  his  fortune,  but  by 
his  Trpoaipeai,';,  to  adopt  the  Greek  expressive  word  of  Polyb- 
ius,f  for  which  our  language  gives  no  equivalent. 

The  reasons  why  each  of  the  following  fifteen  battles  has 
been  selected  will,  I  trust,  appear  when  it  is  described.  But 
it  may  be  well  to  premise  a  few  remarks  on  the  negative  tests 
which  have  led  me  to  reject  others,  which  at  first  sight  may 
appear  equal  in  magnitude  and  importance  to  the  chosen  fif- 
teen. 

I  need  hardly  remark  that  it  is  not  the  number  of  killed 
and  wounded  in  a  battle  that  determines  its  general  historical 
importance.  J  It  is  not  because  only  a  few  hundreds  fell  in  the 
battle  by  which  Joan  of  Arc  captured  the  Tourelles  and  raised 
the  siege  of  Orleans  that  the  effect  of  that  crisis  is  to  be  judged  ; 
nor  would  a  full  belief  in  the  largest  number  which  Eastern 
historians  state  to  have  been  slaughtered  in  any  of  the  numer- 
ous conflicts  between  Asiatic  rulers  make  me  regard  the  en- 
gagement in  which  they  fell  as  one  of  paramount  importance 
to  mankind.  But,  besides  battles  of  this  kind,  there  are  many 
of  great  consequence,  and  attended  with  circumstances  which 
powerfully  excite  our  feelings  and  rivet  our  attention,  and  yet 
which  appear  to  me  of  mere  secondary  rank,  inasmuch  as 
either  their  eflfects  were  limited  in  area,  or  they  themselves 
merely  confirmed  some  great  tendency  or  bias  which  an  earlier 
battle  had  originated.  For  example,  the  encounters  between 
the  Greeks  and  Persians,  which  followed  Marathon,  seem  to 
me  not  to  have  been  phenomena  of  primary  impulse.  Greek 
superiority  had  been  already  asserted,  Asiatic  ambition  had 
already  been  checked,  before  Salamis  and  Plataea  confirmed 
the  superiority  of  European  free  states  over  Oriental  despot- 
ism.    So  ^gospotamos,  which  finally  crushed  the  maritime 

*  See  Bolingbroke  "  On  the  Study  and  Use  of  History,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  497 
of  his  collected  notes, 
t  Polyb.,  lib.  ix.,  sect.  9. 
t  See  Montesquieu,  "  Grandeur  et  Decadence  des  Remains,"  p.  35. 


X  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

power  of  Athens,  seems  to  me  inferior  in  interest  to  the  defeat 
before  Syracuse,  where  Athens  received  her  first  fatal  check, 
and  after  which  she  only  struggled  to  retard  her  downfall.  I 
think  similarly  of  Zama  with  respect  to  Carthage,  as  compared 
with  the  Metaurus ;  and,  on  the  same  principle,  the  subsequent 
great  battles  of  the  Revolutionary  war  appear  to  me  inferior 
in  their  importance  to  Valmy,  which  first  determined  the  mili- 
tary character  and  career  of  the  French  Revolution. 

I  am  aware  that  a  little  activity  of  imagination  and  a  slight 
exercise  of  metaphysical  ingenuity  may  amuse  us  by  showing 
how  the  chain  of  circumstances  is  so  linked  together,  that  the 
smallest  skirmish,  or  the  slightest  occurrence  of  any  kind,  that 
ever  occurred,  may  be  said  to  have  been  essential  in  its  actual 
termination  to  the  whole  order  of  subsequent  events.  But 
when  I  speak  of  causes  and  effects,  I  speak  of  the  obvious  and 
important  agency  of  one  fact  upon  another,  and  not  of  remote 
and  fancifully  infinitesimal  influences.  I  am  aware  that,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  reproach  of  fatalism  is  justly  incurred  by 
those  who,  like  the  writers  of  a  certain  school  in  a  neighboring 
country,  recognize  in  history  nothing  more  than  a  series  of 
necessary  phenomena,  which  follow  inevitably  one  upon  the 
other.  But  when,  in  this  work,  I  speak  of  probabilities,  I 
speak  of  human  probabilities  only.  When  I  speak  of  cause 
and  effect,  I  speak  of  those  general  laws  only  by  which  we 
perceive  the  sequence  of  human  affairs  to  be  usually  regulated, 
and  in  which  we  recognize  emphatically  the  wisdom  and  power 
of  the  supreme  Lawgiver,  the  design  of  the  Designer. 

Mitre  Court  Chambers,  Temple, 
June  26,  j8j/. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGK 

The  Battle  of  Marathon,  B.C.  490 i 

Explanatory  Remarks  on  some  of  the  Circumstances  of  the  Battle 

of  Marathon 31 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Marathon,  B.C.  490,  and 

the  Defeat  of  the  Athenians  at  Syracuse,  B.C.  413 y^ 

CHAPTER  II. 

Defeat  of  the  Athenians  at  Syracuse,  B.C.  413 36 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  the  Athenians  at  Syra- 
cuse and  the  Battle  of  Arbela 55 

CHAPTER   III. 

The  Battle  of  Arbela,  B.C.  331 57 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Arbela  and  the  Battle 
of  the  Metaurus 80 


CHAPTER   IV. 

The  Battle  of  the  Metaurus,  B.C.  207 84 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  the  Metaurus,  B.C.  207, 
and  Arminius's  Victory  over  the  Roman  Legions  under  Varus, 
A.D.  9 Ill 

CHAPTER  V. 

Victory  of  Arminius  over  the   Roman   Legions   under 

Varus,  A.D.  9 115 

Arminius 129 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  Arminius's  Victory  over  Varus  and  the 

Battle  of  Chalons 139 

xi 


xii  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

CHAPTER   VI. 

PAGE 

The  Battle  of  Chalons,  A.D.  451 141 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Chalons,  A.D.  451,  and 
the  Battle  of  Tours,  A.D.  732 156 

CHAPTER   VII. 

The  Battle  of  Tours,  A.D.  732 157 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Tours,  A.D.  732,  and 
the  Battle  of  Hastings,  A.D.  1066 167 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

The  Battle  of  Hastings,  A.  D.  1066 170 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Hastings,  A.  D.  1066, 
and  Joan  of  Arc's  Victory  at  Orleans,  A.D.  1429 202 

CHAPTER   IX. 

Joan  of  Arc's  Victory  over  the  English  at  Orleans, 
A.D.  1429 206 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  Joan  of  Arc's  Victory  at  Orleans, 
A.D.  1429,  and  the  Defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada,  A.D. 
1588 225 

CHAPTER   X. 

The  Defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armalh^,  A.D.  1588 227 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada, 
A.D.  1 588,  and  the  Battle  of  Blenheim,  A.D.  1704 254 

CHAPTER   XI. 

The  Battle  of  Blenheim,  A.D.  1704 256 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Blenheim,  A.D.  1704, 
and  the  Battle  of  Pultowa,  A.D.  1709 279 

CHAPTER   XII. 

The  Battle  of  Pultowa,  A.D.  1709 280 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Pultowa,  A.D.  1709, 
and  the  Defeat  of  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga,  A.D.  1777 294 


CONTENTS  xiii 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

FAGB 

Victory  of  the  Americans  over  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga, 

A.D.  I  ^^y 297 

Synopsis  of  European  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  Burgoyne  at 
Saratoga,  A.D.  1777,  and  the  Battle  of  Valmy,  A.D.  1792 324 

Synopsis  of  American  Events  between  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, A.D.  1776,  and  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg,  A.D. 
1863 324 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

The  Battle  of  Valmy,  A.D.  1792 325 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Valmy,  A.D.  1792,  and 
the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  A.D.  1815 340 

CHAPTER   XV. 

The  Battle  of  Waterloo,  A.D.  181 5 343 

Synopsis  of  European  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Waterloo, 
A.D.  1815,  and  the  Battle  of  Sedan,  A.D.  1870 404 

CHAPTER   XVI, 

The  Battle  of  Gettysburg,  A.D.  1863 405 

Synopsis  of  American  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg, 
A.D.  1863,  and  the  War  with  Spain,  A.D.  1898 41 1 

CHAPTER   XVII. 
The  Battle  of  Sedan,  A.D.  1870 412 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  Battles  of  Manila  and  Santiago,  A.D.  1898 425 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

Napoleon  I  (Portrait) Frontispiece 

Photogravure  from  a  painting 

Admiral  Dewey  (Portrait) ii 

Photograviire  from  a  photograph 

The  Decisive  Action  with  the  Armada      .       .       .       .228 

Photogravure  from  the  original  painting  by  Oswald  W.  Brierly 


THE 

DECISIVE  BATTLES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

CHAPTER   I. 
THE  BATTLE  OF  MARATHON. 

"  Quibus  actus  uterque 
Europae  atque  Asise  fatis  concurrerit  orbis." 

TWO  thousand  three  hundred  and  forty  years  ago,  a  coun- 
cil of  Athenian  officers  was  summoned  on  the  slope  of 
one  of  the  mountains  that  look  over  the  plain  of  Mara- 
thon, on  the  eastern  coast  of  Attica.  The  immediate  subject  of 
their  meeting  was  to  consider  whether  they  should  give  battle 
to  an  enemy  that  lay  encamped  on  the  shore  beneath  them  ; 
but  on  the  result  of  their  deliberations  depended,  not  merely 
the  fate  of  two  armies,  but  the  whole  future  progress  of  human 
civilization. 

There  were  eleven  members  of  that  council  of  war.  Ten 
were  the  generals  who  were  then  annually  elected  at  Athens, 
one  for  each  of  the  local  tribes  into  which  the  Athenians  were 
divided.  Each  general  led  the  men  of  his  own  tribe,  and  each 
was  invested  with  equal  military  authority.  But  one  of  the 
archons  was  also  associated  with  them  in  the  general  com- 
mand of  the  army.  This  magistrate  was  termed  the  pole- 
march  or  War-ruler;  he  had  the  privilege  of  leading  the  right 
wing  of  the  army  in  battle,  and  his  vote  in  a  council  of  war 
was  equal  to  that  of  any  of  the  generals.  A  noble  Athenian 
named  Callimachus  was  the  War-ruler  of  this  year;  and  as 
such  stood  listening  to  the  earnest  discussion  of  the  ten  gen- 
erals. They  had,  indeed,  deep  matter  for  anxiety,  though  little 
aware  how  momentous  to  mankind  w^ere  the  votes  they  were 
about  to  give,  or  how  the  generations  to  come  would  read  with 

I 


V  '•'' •  •'  Decisive  battles 

interest  the  record  of  their  discussions.  They  saw  before  them 
the  invading  forces  of  a  mighty  empire,  which  had  in  the  last 
fifty  years  shattered  and  enslaved  nearly  all  the  kingdoms 
and  principalities  of  the  then  known  world.  They  knew  that 
all  the  resources  of  their  own  country  were  comprised  in  the 
little  army  intrusted  to  their  guidance.  They  saw  before  them 
a  chosen  host  of  the  great  King,  sent  to  wreak  his  special 
wrath  on  that  country  and  on  the  other  insolent  little  Greek 
community,  which  had  dared  to  aid  his  rebels  and  burn  the 
capital  of  one  of  his  provinces.  That  victorious  host  had  al- 
ready fulfilled  half  its  mission  of  vengeance.  Eretria,  the  con- 
federate of  Athens  in  the  bold  march  against  Sardis  nine  years 
before,  had  fallen  in  the  last  few  days ;  and  the  Athenian  gen- 
erals could  discern  from  the  heights  the  island  of  ^gilia,  in 
which  the  Persians  had  deposited  their  Eretrian  prisoners, 
whom  they  had  reserved  to  be  led  away  captives  into  Upper 
Asia,  there  to  hear  their  doom  from  the  lips  of  King  Darius 
himself.  Moreover,  the  men  of  Athens  knew  that  in  the  camp 
before  them  was  their  own  banished  tyrant,  who  was  seeking 
to  be  reinstated  by  foreign  cimeters  in  despotic  sway  over  any 
remnant  of  his  countrymen  that  might  survive  the  sack  of 
their  town,  and  might  be  left  behind  as  too  worthless  for  lead- 
ing away  into  Median  bondage. 

The  numerical  disparity  between  the  force  which  the  Athe- 
nian commanders  had  under  them,  and  that  which  they  were 
called  on  to  encounter,  was  hopelessly  apparent  to  some  of  the 
council.  The  historians  who  wrote  nearest  to  the  time  of  the 
battle  do  not  pretend  to  give  any  detailed  statements  of  the 
numbers  engaged,  but  there  are  sufficient  data  for  our  making 
a  general  estimate.  Every  free  Greek  was  trained  to  military 
duty ;  and,  from  the  incessant  border  wars  between  the  differ- 
ent states,  few  Greeks  reached  the  age  of  manhood  without 
having  seen  some  service.  But  the  muster-roll  of  free  Athenian 
citizens  of  an  age  fit  for  military  duty  never  exceeded  thirty 
thousand,  and  at  this  epoch  probably  did  not  amount  to  two- 
thirds  of  that  number.  Moreover,  the  poorer  portion  of  these 
were  unprovided  with  the  equipments,  and  untrained  to  the 
operations  of  the  regular  infantry.  Some  detachments  of  the 
best-armed  troops  would  be  required  to  garrison  the  city  itself 
and  man  the  various  fortified  posts  in  the  territory ;  so  that  it 
is  impossible  to  reckon  the  fully  equipped  force  that  marched 


GEORGE   DEWEY. 

{Admiral  of  tJie  United  States  Navy.) 
PhotograTiite  from  a  photograph. 


A 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  3 

from  Athens  to  Marathon,  when  the  news  of  the  Persian  land- 
ing arrived,  at  higher  than  ten  thousand  men.* 

With  one  exception,  the  other  Greeks  held  back  from  aid- 
ing them.  Sparta  had  promised  assistance,  but  the  Persians 
had  landed  on  the  sixth  day  of  the  moon,  and  a  religious 
scruple  delayed  the  march  of  Spartan  troops  till  the  moon 
should  have  reached  its  full.  From  one  quarter  only,  and  that 
from  a  most  unexpected  one,  did  Athens  receive  aid  at  the 
moment  of  her  great  peril. 

Some  years  before  this  time  the  little  state  of  Platsea  in 
Boeotia,  being  hard  pressed  by  her  powerful  neighbor,  Thebes, 
had  asked  the  protection  of  Athens,  and  had  owed  to  an 
Athenian  army  the  rescue  of  her  independence.  Now  when  it 
was  noised  over  Greece  that  the  Mede  had  come  from  the  ut- 
termost parts  of  the  earth  to  destroy  Athens,  the  brave  Platae- 
ans,  unsolicited,  marched  with  their  whole  force  to  assist  the 
defense,  and  to  share  the  fortunes  of  their  benefactors.  The 
general  levy  of  the  Plataeans  only  amounted  to  a  thousand 
men ;  and  this  little  column,  marching  from  their  city  along 
the  southern  ridge  of  Mount  Cithaeron,  and  thence  across  the 
Attic  territory,  joined  the  Athenian  forces  above  Marathon 
almost  immediately  before  the  battle.  The  re-enforcement  was 
numerically  small,  but  the  gallant  spirit  of  the  men  who  com- 
posed it  must  have  made  it  of  ten-fold  value  to  the  Athenians ; 
and  its  presence  must  have  gone  far  to  dispel  the  cheerless 
feeling  of  being  deserted  and  friendless,  which  the  delay  of  the 
Spartan  succors  was  calculated  to  create  among  the  Athenian 
ranks,  f 

This  generous  daring  of  their  weak  but  true-hearted  ally 

*  The  historians,  who  lived  long  after  the  time  of  the  battle,  such  as 
Justin,  Plutarch,  and  others,  give  ten  thousand  as  the  number  of  the 
Athenian  army.  Not  much  reliance  could  be  placed  on  their  authority, 
if  unsupported  by  other  evidence;  but  a  calculation  made  for  the  num- 
ber of  the  Athenian  free  population  remarkably  confirms  it.  For  the 
data  of  this  see  Boeckh's  "  Public  Economy  of  Athens,"  vol.  i.,  p.  45. 
Some  M^TotKoi  probably  served  as  Hoplites  at  Marathon,  but  the 
number  of  resident  aliens  at  Athens  cannot  have  been  large  at  this 
period. 

t  Mr.  Grote  observes  (vol.  iv.,  p.  464)  that  "  this  volunteer  march  of 
the  whole  Plataean  force  to  Marathon  is  one  of  the  most  affecting  inci- 
dents of  all  Grecian  history."  In  truth,  the  whole  career  of  Plataea,  and 
the  friendship,  strong,  even  unto  death,  between  her  and  Athens,  form 
one  of  the  most  affecting  episodes  in  the  history  of  antiquity.  In  the 
Peloponnesian  war  the  Platseans  again  were  true  to  the  Athenians  against 
all  risks,   and  all  calculation  of  self-interest;   and  the  destruction  of 


4  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

was  never  forgotten  at  Athens.  The  Platseans  were  made  the 
civil  fellow-countrymen  of  the  Athenians,  except  the  right  of 
exercising  certain  political  functions  ;  and  from  that  time  forth, 
in  the  solemn  sacrifices  at  Athens,  the  public  prayers  were  of- 
fered up  for  a  joint  blessing  from  Heaven  upon  the  Athenians, 
and  the  Platseans  also. 

After  the  junction  of  the  column  from  Platsea,  the  Athe- 
nian commanders  must  have  had  under  them  about  eleven 
thousand  fully  armed  and  disciplined  infantry,  and  probably 
a  larger  number  of  irregular  light-armed  troops ;  as,  besides 
the  poorer  citizens  who  went  to  the  field  armed  with  javelins, 
cutlasses,  and  targets,  each  regular  heavy-armed  soldier  was 
attended  in  the  camp  by  one  or  more  slaves,  who  were  armed 
like  the  inferior  freemen. f  Cavalry  or  archers  the  Athenians 
(on  this  occasion)  had  none  ;  and  the  use  in  the  field  of  military 
engines  was  not  at  that  period  introduced  into  ancient  warfare. 

Contrasted  with  their  own  scanty  forces,  the  Greek  com- 
manders saw  stretched  before  them,  along  the  shores  of  the 
winding  bay,  the  tents  and  shipping  of  the  varied  nations  who 
marched  to  do  the  bidding  of  the  king  of  the  Eastern  world. 
The  difficulty  of  finding  transports  and  of  securing  provisions 
would  form  the  only  limit  to  the  numbers  of  a  Persian  army. 
Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  suppose  the  estimate  of  Justin  exag- 
gerated, who  rates  at  a  hundred  thousand  the  force  which  on 
this  occasion  had  sailed,  under  the  satraps  Datis  and  Artapher- 
nes,  from  the  Cilician  shores  against  the  devoted  coasts  of  Eu- 
boea  and  Attica.  And  after  largely  deducting  from  this  total, 
so  as  to  allow  for  mere  mariners  and  camp  followers,  there  must 
still  have  remained  fearful  odds  against  the  national  levies  of 
the  Athenians.  Nor  could  Greek  generals  then  feel  that  con- 
fidence in  the  superior  quality  of  their  troops,  which  ever  since 
the  battle  of  Marathon  has  animated  Europeans  in  conflicts 
with  Asiatics ;  as,  for  instance,  in  the  after  struggles  between 
Greece  and  Persia,  or  when  the  Roman  legions  encountered 
the  myriads  of  Mithridates  and  Tigranes,  or  as  is  the  case  in 

Platsea  was  the  consequence.  There  are  few  nobler  passages  in  the 
classics  than  the  speech  in  which  the  Plataean  prisoners  of  war,  after 
the  memorable  siege  of  their  city,  justify  before  their  Spartan  execu- 
tioners their  loyal  adherence  to  Athens.  See  Thucydides,  lib.  iii., 
sees.  53-60. 

t  At  the  battle  of  Plataea,  eleven  years  after  Marathon,  each  of  the 
eight  thousand  Athenian  regular  infantry  who  served  them  was  at- 
tended by  a  light-armed  slave. — Herod.,  lib.  viii.,  27,  28,  29. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  5 

the  Indian  campaigns  of  our  own  regiments.  On  the  contrary, 
up  to  the  day  of  Marathon  the  Medes  and  Persians  were  re- 
puted invincible.  They  had  more  than  once  met  Greek  troops 
in  Asia  Minor,  in  Cyprus,  in  Egypt,  and  had  invariably  beaten 
them.  Nothing  can  be  stronger  than  the  expressions  used  by 
the  early  Greek  writers  respecting  the  terror  which  the  name  of 
the  Medes  inspired,  and  the  prostration  of  men's  spirits  before 
the  apparently  resistless  career  of  the  Persian  arms.*  It  is, 
therefore,  little  to  be  wondered  at,  that  five  of  the  ten  Athenian 
generals  shrank  from  the  prospect  of  fighting  a  pitched  battle 
against  an  enemy  so  superior  in  numbers  and  so  formidable  in 
military  renown.  Their  own  position  on  the  heights  was 
strong,  and  offered  great  advantages  to  a  small  defending  force 
against  assailing  masses.  They  deemed  it  mere  foolhardiness 
to  descend  into  the  plain  to  be  trampled  down  by  the  Asiatic 
horse,  overwhelmed  with  the  archery,  or  cut  to  pieces  by  the 
invincible  veterans  of  Cambyses  and  Cyrus.  Moreover,  Sparta, 
the  great  war-state  of  Greece,  had  been  apphed  to,  and  had 
promised  succor  to  Athens,  though  the  religious  observance 
which  the  Dorians  paid  to  certain  times  and  seasons  had  for 
the  present  delayed  their  march.  Was  it  not  wise,  at  any  rate, 
to  wait  till  the  Spartans  came  up,  and  to  have  the  help  of  the 
best  troops  in  Greece,  before  they  exposed  themselves  to  the 
shock  of  the  dreaded  Medes  ? 

Specious  as  these  reasons  might  appear,  the  other  five  gen- 
erals were  for  speedier  and  bolder  operations.  And,  fortunate- 
ly for  Athens  and  for  the  world,  one  of  them  was  a  man,  not 
only  of  the  highest  military  genius,  but  also  of  that  energetic 
character  which  impresses  its  own  type  and  ideas  upon  spirits 
feebler  in  conception. 

Miltiades  was  the  head  of  one  of  the  noblest  houses  at 
Athens ;  he  ranked  the  ^acidje  among  his  ancestry,  and  the 
blood  of  Achilles  flowed  in  the  veins  of  the  hero  of  Marathon. 
One  of  his  immediate  ancestors  had  acquired  the  dominion  of 
the  Thracian  Chersonese,  and  thus  the  family  became  at  the 
same  time  Athenian  citizens  and  Thracian  princes.  This  oc- 
curred at  the  time  when  Pisistratus  was  tyrant  of  Athens.    Two 

*  'A^Tji/aToi  irpwTOi  aveaxovTO  eadrfrd  re  MtjSik);!/  opfWVTfs,  Ka\  tous  ivSpas  Ta.VTr]v 
(adr)fJi(vovs.  reois  5€  t\v  rolffi  ''EAAtjcj  kclL  rh  otvofia  twv  MtjSwv  <p6fio  aKovcrai. — 
Herodotus,  lib.  vi.,  c.  112. 

At  Se  yvSifxai  Se  SovXco/xevai  airavraiv  avdpuiruv  ijarav'  otjTu  iroAAa  koI  fxeyaKa  Kal 
ficix'/ia  yeyr)  KaraSeSovKwi-ievn  ^v  t]  Tlfpffwi^  "■PX'fl- — Plato,  Menexenns. 


6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

of  the  relatives  of  Miltiades — an  uncle  of  the  same  name,  and 
a  brother  named  Stesagoras — had  ruled  the  Chersonese  before 
Miltiades  became  its  prince.  He  had  been  brought  up  at 
Athens  in  the  house  of  his  father,  Cimon,*  who  was  renowned 
throughout  Greece  for  his  victories  in  the  Olympic  chariot- 
races,  and  who  must  have  been  possessed  of  great  wealth. 
The  sons  of  Pisistratus,  who  succeeded  their  father  in  the  tyr- 
anny at  Athens,  caused  Cimon  to  be  assassinated ;  f  but  they 
treated  the  young  Miltiades  with  favor  and  kindness,  and  when 
his  brother  Stesagoras  died  in  the  Chersonese,  they  sent  him 
out  there  as  lord  of  the  principality.  This  was  about  twenty- 
eight  years  before  the  battle  of  Marathon,  and  it  is  with  his  ar- 
rival in  the  Chersonese  that  our  first  knowledge  of  the  career 
and  character  of  Miltiades  commences.  We  find,  in  the  first 
act  recorded  of  him,  the  proof  of  the  same  resolute  and  un- 
scrupulous spirit  that  marked  his  mature  age.  His  brother's 
authority  in  the  principality  had  been  shaken  by  war  and  re- 
volt :  Miltiades  determined  to  rule  more  securely.  On  his 
arrival  he  kept  close  within  his  house,  as  if  he  was  mourning 
for  his  brother.  The  principal  men  of  the  Chersonese,  hear- 
ing of  this,  assembled  from  all  the  towns  and  districts,  and  went 
together  to  the  house  of  Miltiades,  on  a  visit  of  condolence.  As 
soon  as  he  had  thus  got  them  in  his  power,  he  made  them  all 
prisoners.  He  then  asserted  and  maintained  his  own  absolute 
authority  in  the  peninsula,  taking  into  his  pay  a  body  of  five 
hundred  regular  troops,  and  strengthening  his  interest  by  mar- 
rying the  daughter  of  the  king  of  the  neighboring  Thracians. 

When  the  Persian  power  was  extended  to  the  Hellespont 
and  its  neighborhood,  Miltiades,  as  prince  of  the  Chersonese, 
submitted  to  King  Darius ;  and  he  was  one  of  the  numerous 
tributary  rulers  who  led  their  contingents  of  men  to  serve  in 
the  Persian  army,  in  the  expedition  against  Scythia.  Miltiades 
and  the  vassal  Greeks  of  Asia  Minor  were  left  by  the  Persian 
king  in  charge  of  the  bridge  across  the  Danube,  wdien  the  in- 
vading army  crossed  that  river,  and  plunged  into  the  wilds  of 
the  country  that  now  is  Russia,  in  vain  pursuit  of  the  ances- 
tors of  the  modern  Cossacks.  On  learning  the  reverses  that 
Darius  met  with  in  the  Scythian  wilderness,  Miltiades  proposed 
to  his  companions  that  they  should  break  the  bridge  down,  and 
leave  the  Persian  king  and  his  army  to  perish  by  famine  and 
*  Herodotus,  lib.  vi.,  c.  103.  t  lb. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  7 

the  Scythian  arrows.  The  rulers  of  the  Asiatic  Greek  cities, 
whom  Miltiades  addressed,  shrank  from  this  bold  but  ruth- 
less stroke  against  the  Persian  power,  and  Darius  returned  in 
safety.  But  it  was  known  what  advice  Miltiades  had  given, 
and  the  vengeance  of  Darius  was  thenceforth  specially  directed 
against  the  man  who  had  counseled  such  a  deadly  blow  against 
his  empire  and  his  person.  The  occupation  of  the  Persian 
arms  in  other  quarters  left  Miltiades  for  some  years  after  this 
in  possession  of  the  Chersonese ;  but  it  was  precarious  and  in- 
terrupted. He,  however,  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity 
which  his  position  gave  him  of  conciliating  the  good  will  of  his 
fellow-countrymen  at  Athens,  by  conquering  and  placing  un- 
der the  Athenian  authority  the  islands  of  Lemnos  and  Imbros, 
to  which  Athens  had  ancient  claims,  but  which  she  had  never 
previously  been  able  to  bring  into  complete  subjection.  At 
length,  in  494  B.  C,  the  complete  suppression  of  the  Ionian 
revolt  by  the  Persians  left  their  armies  and  fleets  at  liberty  to 
act  against  the  enemies  of  the  Great  King  to  the  west  of  the 
Hellespont.  A  strong  squadron  of  Phoenician  galleys  was  sent 
against  the  Chersonese.  Miltiades  knew  that  resistance  was 
hopeless ;  and  while  the  Phoenicians  were  at  Tenedos,  he 
loaded  five  galleys  with  all  the  treasure  that  he  could  collect, 
and  sailed  away  for  Athens.  The  Phoenicians  fell  in  with  him, 
and  chased  him  hard  along  the  north  of  the  ^gean.  One 
of  his  galleys,  on  board  of  which  was  his  eldest  son  Aletiochus, 
was  actually  captured.  But  Miltiades,  with  the  other  four,  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  the  friendly  coast  of  Imbros  in  safety. 
Thence  he  afterward  proceeded  to  Athens,  and  resumed  his 
station  as  a  free  citizen  of  the  Athenian  commonwealth. 

The  Athenians,  at  this  time,  had  recently  expelled  Hippias, 
the  son  of  Pisistratus,  the  last  of  their  tyrants.  They  were  in 
the  full  glow  of  their  newly-recovered  liberty  and  equality ; 
and  the  constitutional  changes  of  Cleisthenes  had  inflamed 
their  republican  zeal  to  the  utmost.  Miltiades  had  enemies 
at  Athens  ;  and  these,  availing  themselves  of  the  state  of  popu- 
lar feeling,  brought  him  to  trial  for  his  life  for  having  been 
tyrant  of  the  Chersonese.  The  charge  did  not  necessarily  im- 
port any  acts  of  cruelty  or  wrong  to  individuals :  it  was  founded 
on  no  specific  law ;  but  it  was  based  on  the  horror  with  which 
the  Greeks  of  that  age  regarded  every  man  who  made  himself 
arbitrary  master  of  his  fellow-men,  and  exercised  irresponsible 


8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

dominion  over  them.  The  fact  of  Miltiades  having  so  ruled  in 
the  Chersonese  was  undeniable ;  but  the  question  which  the 
Athenians  assembled  in  judgment  must  have  tried,  was  whether 
Miltiades,  although  tyrant  of  the  Chersonese,  deserved  punish- 
ment as  an  Athenian  citizen.  The  eminent  service  that  he  had 
done  the  state  in  conquering  Lemnos  and  Imbros  for  it,  pleaded 
strongly  in  his  favor.  The  people  refused  to  convict  him.  He 
stood  high  in  public  opinion.  And  when  the  coming  invasion 
of  the  Persians  was  known,  the  people  wisely  elected  him 
one  of  their  generals  for  the  year. 

Two  other  men  of  high  eminence  in  history,  though  their 
renown  was  achieved  at  a  later  period  than  that  of  Miltiades, 
were  also  among  the  ten  Athenian  generals  at  Marathon.  One 
was  Themistocles,  the  future  founder  of  the  Athenian  navy, 
and  the  destined  victor  of  Salamis.  The  other  was  Aristides, 
who  afterward  led  the  Athenian  troops  at  Platsea,  and  whose 
integrity  and  just  popularity  acquired  for  his  country,  when 
the  Persians  had  finally  been  repulsed,  the  advantageous  pre- 
eminence of  being  acknowledged  by  half  of  the  Greeks  as  their 
imperial  leader  and  protector.  It  is  not  recorded  what  part 
either  Themistocles  or  Aristides  took  in  the  debate  of  the 
council  of  war  at  Marathon.  But,  from  the  character  of  The- 
mistocles, his  boldness,  and  his  intuitive  genius  for  extemporiz- 
ing the  best  measures  in  eVery  emergency*  (a  quality  which  the 
greatest  of  historians  ascribes  to  him  beyond  all  his  contem- 
poraries), we  may  well  believe  that  the  vote  of  Themistocles 
was  for  prompt  and  decisive  action.  On  the  vote  of  Aristides 
it  may  be  more  difficult  to  speculate.  His  predilection  for  the 
Spartans  may  have  made  him  wish  to  wait  till  they  came  up ; 
but,  though  circumspect,  he  was  neither  timid  as  a  soldier  nor 
as  a  politician,  and  the  bold  advice  of  Miltiades  may  probably 
have  found  in  Aristides  a  willing,  most  assuredly  it  found  in 
him  a  candid  hearer. 

Miltiades  felt  no  hesitation  as  to  the  course  which  the  Athe- 
nian army  ought  to  pursue ;  and  earnestly  did  he  press  his 
opinion  on  his  brother-generals.  Practically  acquainted  with 
the  organization  of  the  Persian  armies,  Miltiades  felt  convinced 
of  the  superiority  of  the  Greek  troops,  if  properly  handled  ;  he 

*  See  the  character  of  Themistocles  in  the  138th  section  of  the  first 
book  of  Thucydides,  especially  the  last  sentence.  Kal  rh  ^v/.nrai'  ei'Tre?;/  <pv- 
atwi  M«>'  Zwifxii  ftf\(Tr}i  Se  PpaxvTTjTi  icpdriaros  St)  oStos  auTO(T;t*5ia^6<>'  rh  Sfovra 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  9 

saw  with  the  mihtary  eye  of  a  great  general  the  advantage 
which  the  position  of  the  forces  gave  him  for  a  sudden  attack, 
and  as  a  profound  poHtician  he  feh  the  perils  of  remaining  in- 
active, and  of  giving  treachery  time  to  ruin  the  Athenian  cause. 

One  officer  in  the  council  of  war  had  not  yet  voted.  This 
was  Callimachus,  the  War-ruler.  The  viotes  of  the  generals 
were  five  and  five,  so  that  the  voice  of  Callimachus  would  be 
decisive. 

O-n  that  vote,  in  all  human  probability,  the  destiny  of  all  the 
nations  of  the  world  depended.  Miltiades  turned  to  him,  and 
in  simple  soldierly  eloquence,  the  substance  of  which  we  may 
read  faithfully  reported  in  Herodotus,  who  had  conversed  with 
the  veterans  of  Marathon,  the  great  Athenian  thus  adjured 
his  countrymen  to  vote  for  giving  battle : 

"  It  now  rests  with  you,  Callimachus,  either  to  enslave 
Athens,  or,  by  assuring  her  freedom,  to  win  yourself  an  im- 
mortality of  fame,  such  as  not  even  Harmodius  and  Aristogi- 
ton  have  acquired ;  for  nevfer,  since  the  Athenians  were  a  peo- 
ple, were  they  in  such  danger  as  they  are  in  at  this  moment. 
If  they  bow  the  knee  to  these  Medes,  they  are  to  be  given  up  to 
Hippias,  and  you  know  what  they  then  will  have  to  suffer.  But 
if  Athens  comes  victorious  out  of  this  contest,  she  has  it  in  her 
to  become  the  first  city  of  Greece.  Your  vote  is  to  decide 
whether  we  are  to  join  battle  or  not.  If  we  do  not  bring  on  a 
battle  presently,  some  factious  intrigue  will  disunite  the  Athe- 
nians, and  the  city  will  be  betrayed  to  the  Medes.  But  if  we 
fight,  before  there  is  anything  rotten  in  the  state  of  Athens,  I 
believe  that,  provided  the  gods  will  give  fair  play  and  no  favor, 
we  are  able  to  get  the  best  of  it  in  an  engagement."  * 

The  vote  of  the  brave  War-ruler  was  gained,  the  council 
determined  to  give  battle ;   and  such  was  the  ascendency  and 

*  Herodotus,  lib.  vi.,  sec.  109.  The  ii6th  section  is  to  my  mind  clear 
proof  that  Herodotus  had  personally  conversed  with  Epizelus,  one  of 
the  veterans  of  Marathon.  The  substance  of  the  speech  of  Miltiades 
would  naturally  become  known  by  the  report  of  some  of  his  colleagues. 
The  speeches  which  ancient  historians  place  in  the  mouths  of  kings  and 
generals  are  generally  inventions  of  their  own ;  but  part  of  this  speech 
of  Miltiades  bears  internal  evidence  of  authenticity.  Such  is  the  case 
with  the  remarkable  expression  ^v  Se  ^vfji.$d\wfi€i>  ■nplv  rt  koI  aadphp 
'A^Tifaiuv  ixere^fT^poifft  ivyevea^ai,  ^eciv  ri  Iffa  vefiSuTCDP,  oToi  re  ei/xtv 
irepiyevea^ai  rp  avfifioXri.  This  daring  and  almost  irreverant  assertion 
would  never  have  been  coined  by  Herodotus,  but  it  is  precisely  con- 
sonant with  what  we  know  of  the  character  of  Miltiades ;  and  it  is  an 
expression  which,  if  used  by  him,  would  be  sure  to  be  remembered  and 
repeated  by  his  hearers. 


lo  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

acknowledged  military  eminence  of  Miltiades,  that  his  brother- 
generals  one  and  all  gave  up  their  days  of  command  to  him, 
and  cheerfully  acted  under  his  orders.  Fearful,  however,  of 
creating  any  jealousy,  and  of  so  failing  to  obtain  the  vigorous 
co-operation  of  all  parts  of  his  small  army,  Miltiades  waited 
till  the  day  when  the  chief  command  would  have  come  round 
to  him  in  regular  rotation  before  he  led  the  troops  against  the 
enemy. 

The  inaction  of  the  Asiatic  commanders  during  this  interval 
appears  strange  at  first  sight ;  but  Hippias  was  with  them,  and 
thev  and  he  were  aware  of  their  chance  of  a  bloodless  conquest 
through  the  machinations  of  his  partisans  among  the  Athe- 
nians. The  nature  of  the  ground  also  explains  in  many  points 
the  tactics  of  the  opposite  generals  before  the  battle,  as  well  as 
the  operations  of  the  troops  during  the  engagement. 

The  plain  of  Marathon,  which  is  about  twenty-two  miles 
distant  from  Athens,  lies  along  the  bay  of  the  same  name  on 
the  northeastern  coast  of  Attica.  The  plain  is  nearly  in  the 
form  of  a  crescent,  and  about  six  miles  in  length.  It  is  about 
two  miles  broad  in  the  centre,  where  the  space  between  the 
mountains  and  the  sea  is  greatest,  but  it  narrows  toward  either 
extremity,  the  mountains  coming  close  down  to  the  water  at 
the  horns  of  the  bay.  There  is  a  valley  trending  inward  from 
the  middle  of  the  plain,  and  a  ravine  comes  down  to  it  to  the 
southward.  Elsewhere  it  is  closely  girt  round  on  the  land  side 
by  rugged  limestone  mountains,  which  are  thickly  studded 
with  pines,  olive-trees  and  cedars,  and  overgrown  with  the 
myrtle,  arbutus,  and  the  other  low  odoriferous  shrubs  that 
everywhere  perfume  the  Attic  air.  The  level  of  the  ground  is 
now  varied  by  the  mound  raised  over  those  who  fell  in  the  bat- 
tle, but  it  was  an  unbroken  plain  when  the  Persians  encamped 
on  it.  There  are  marshes  at  each  end,  which  are  dry  in  spring 
and  summer  and  then  ofTer  no  obstruction  to  the  horseman, 
but  are  commonly  flooded  with  rain  and  so  rendered  imprac- 
ticable for  cavalry  in  the  autumn,  the  time  of  year  at  which 
the  action  took  place. 

The  Greeks,  lying  encamped  on  the  mountains,  could  watch 
every  movement  of  the  Persians  on  the  plain  below,  while 
they  were  enabled  completely  to  mask  their  own.  Miltiades 
also  had,  from  his  position,  the  power  of  giving  battle  when- 
ever he  pleased,  or  of  delaying  it  at  his  discretion,  unless  Da- 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  ii 

tis  were  to  attempt  the  perilous  operation  of  storming  the 
heights. 

If  we  turn  to  the  map  of  the  Old  World,  to  test  the  com- 
parative territorial  resources  of  the  two  states  whose  armies 
were  now  about  to  come  into  conflict,  the  immense  preponder- 
ance of  the  material  power  of  the  Persian  king  over  that  of 
the  Athenian  republic  is  more  striking  than  any  similar  con- 
trast which  history  can  supply.  It  has  been  truly  remarked 
that,  in  estimating  mere  areas,  Attica,  containing  on  its  whole 
surface  only  seven  hundred  square  miles,  shrinks  into  insig- 
nificance if  compared  with  many  a  baronial  fief  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  or  many  a  colonial  allotment  of  modern  times.  Its  an- 
tagonist, the  Persian  empire,  comprised  the  whole  of  modern 
Asiatic  and  much  of  modern  European  Turkey,  the  modern 
kingdom  of  Persia,  and  the  countries  of  modern  Georgia, 
Armenia,  Balkh,  the  Punjaub,  Afghanistan,  Beloochistan, 
Egypt,  and  Tripoli. 

Nor  could  a  European,  in  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century 
before  our  era,  look  upon  this  huge  accumulation  of  power 
beneath  the  sceptre  of  a  single  Asiatic  ruler  with  the  indiffer- 
ence with  which  we  now  observe  on  the  map  the  extensive 
dominions  of  modern  Oriental  sovereigns ;  for,  as  has  been 
already  remarked,  before  Marathon  was  fought,  the  prestige 
of  success  and  of  supposed  superiority  of  race  was  on  the  side 
of  the  Asiatic  against  the  European.  Asia  was  the  original  seat 
of  human  societies,  and  long  before  any  trace  can  be  found  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  rest  of  the  world  having  emerged  from 
the  rudest  barbarism,  we  can  perceive  that  mighty  and  brilliant 
empires  flourished  in  the  Asiatic  continent.  They  appear  be- 
fore us  through  the  twilight  of  primeval  history,  dim  and  in- 
distinct, but  massive  and  majestic,  like  mountains  in  the  early 
dawn. 

Instead,  however,  of  the  infinite  variety  and  restless 
change  which  has  characterized  the  institutions  and  fortunes 
of  European  states  ever  since  the  commencement  of  the  civiliza- 
tion of  our  continent,  a  monotonous  uniformity  pervades  the 
histories  of  nearly  all  Oriental  empires,  from  the  most  ancient 
down  to  the  most  recent  times.  They  are  characterized  by  the 
rapidity  of  their  early  conquests,  by  the  immense  extent  of  the 
dominions  comprised  in  them,  by  the  establishment  of  a  satrap 
or  pashaw  system  of  governing  the  provinces,  by  an  invariable 


12  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

and  speedy  degeneracy  in  the  princes  of  the  royal  house,  the 
effeminate  nursHngs  of  the  seragHo  succeeding  to  the  warrior 
sovereigns  reared  in  the  camp,  and  by  the  internal  anarchy  and 
insurrections  which  indicate  and  accelerate  the  decline  and  fall 
of  these  unwieldy  and  ill-organized  fabrics  of  power.  It  is 
also  a  striking  fact  that  the  governments  of  all  the  great 
Asiatic  empires  have  in  all  ages  been  absolute  despotisms. 
And  Heeren  is  right  in  connecting  this  with  another  great  fact, 
which  is  important  from  its  influence  both  on  the  political  and 
the  social  life  of  Asiatics.  "  Among  all  the  considerable  na- 
tions of  Inner  Asia,  the  paternal  government  of  every  house- 
hold was  corrupted  by  polygamy:  where  that  custom  exists, 
a  good  political  constitution  is  impossible.  Fathers,  being 
converted  into  domestic  despots,  are  ready  to  pay  the  same  ab- 
ject obedience  to  their  sovlereign  which  they  exact  from  their 
family  and  dependents  in  their  domestic  economy."  We 
should  bear  in  mind,  also,  the  inseparable  connection  between 
the  state  religion  and  all  legislation  which  has  always  prevailed 
in  the  East,  and  the  constant  existence  of  a  powerful  sacerdotal 
body,  exercising  some  check,  though  precarious  and  irregular, 
over  the  throne  itself,  grasping  at  all  civil  administration,  claim- 
ing the  supreme  control  of  education,  stereotyping  the  lines  in 
which  literature  and  science  must  move,  and  limiting  the  ex- 
tent to  which  it  shall  be  lawful  for  the  human  mind  to  prose- 
cute its  inquiries. 

With  these  general  characteristics  rightly  felt  and  under- 
stood it  becomes  a  comparatively  easy  task  to  investigate  and 
appreciate  the  origin,  progress  and  principles  of  Oriental  em- 
pires in  general,  as  well  as  of  the  Persian  monarchy  in  par- 
ticular. And  we  are  thus  better  enabled  to  appreciate  the  re- 
pulse which  Greece  gave  to  the  arms  of  the  East,  and  to  judge 
of  the  probable  consequences  to  human  civilization,  if  the  Per- 
sians had  succeeded  in  bringing  Europe  under  their  yoke,  as 
they  had  already  subjugated  the  fairest  portions  of  the  rest  of 
the  then  known  world. 

The  Greeks,  from  their  geographical  position,  formed  the 
natural  vanguard  of  European  liberty  against  Persian  ambi- 
tion ;  and  they  pre-eminently  displayed  the  salient  points  of 
distinctive  national  character  which  have  rendered  European 
civilization  so  far  superior  to  Asiatic.  The  nations  that  dwelt 
in  ancient  times  around  and  near  the  northern  shores  of  the 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON 


13 


Mediterranean  Sea  were  the  first  in  our  continent  to  receive 
from  the  East  the  rudiments  of  art  and  literature,  and  the 
germs  of  social  and  political  organizations.  Of  these  nations 
the  Greeks,  through  their  vicinity  to  Asia  Minor,  Phoenicia, 
and  Egypt,  were  among  the  very  foremost  in  acquiring  the 
principles  and  habits  of  civilized  life;  and  they  also  at  once 
Imparted  a  new  and  wholly  original  stamp  on  all  which  they 
received.  Thus,  in  their  religion,  they  received  from  foreign 
settlers  the  names  of  all  their  deities  and  many  of  their  rites, 
but  they  discarded  the  loathsome  monstrosities  of  the  Nile,  the 
Orontes,  and  the  Ganges ;  they  nationalized  their  creed ;  and 
their  own  poets  created  their  beautiful  mythology.  No  sacer- 
dotal caste  ever  existed  in  Greece.  So,  in  their  governments, 
they  lived  long  under  hereditary  kings,  but  never  endured  the 
permanent  establishment  of  absolute  monarchy.  Their  early 
kings  were  constitutional  rulers,  governing  with  defined  pre- 
rogatives.* And  long  before  the  Persian  invasion,  the  kingly 
form  of  government  had  given  way  in  almost  all  the  Greek 
states  to  republican  institutions,  presenting  infinite  viarieties  of 
the  blending  or  the  alternate  predominance  of  the  oligarchical 
and  democratical  principles.  In  literature  and  science  the 
Greek  intellect  followed  no  beaten  track,  and  acknowledged 
no  limitary  rules.  The  Greeks  thought  their  subjects  boldly 
out ;  and  the  novelty  of  a  speculation  invested  it  in  their  minds 
with  interest,  and  not  with  criminality.  Versatile,  restless,  en- 
terprising, and  self-confident,  the  Greeks  presented  the  most 
striking  contrast  to  the  habitual  quietude  and  submissiveness 
of  the  Orientals ;  and,  of  all  the  Greeks,  the  Athenians  exhib- 
ited these  national  characteristics  in  the  strongest  degree. 
This  spirit  of  activity  and  daring,  joined  to  a  generous  sym- 
pathy for  the  fate  of  their  fellow-Greeks  in  Asia,  had  led  them 
to  join  in  the  last  Ionian  war,  and  now  mingling  with  their 
abhorrence  of  the  usurping  family  of  their  own  citizens,  which 
for  a  period  had  forcibly  seized  on  and  exercised  despotic 
power  at  Athens,  nerved  them  to  defy  the  wrath  of  King  Da- 
rius, and  to  refuse  to  receive  back  at  his  bidding  the  tyrant 
whom  they  had  some  years  before  driven  out. 

The  enterprise  and  genius  of  an  Englishman  have  lately 
confirmed  by  fresh  evidence,  and  invested  with  fresh  interest, 
the  might  of  the  Persian  monarch  who  sent  his  troops  to  com- 

*  'Eirt  prjrois  yfpaat  irwrpiKal  BaaiXiiai. — THUCYD,  lib.  L ,  see.  1 2. 


14  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

bat  at  Marathon.  Inscriptions  in  a  character  termed  the  Ar^ 
row-headed  or  Cuneiform,  had  long  been  known  to  exist  on 
the  marble  monuments  at  Persepolis,  near  the  site  of  the  ancient 
Susa,  and  on  the  faces  of  rocks  in  other  places  formerly  ruled 
over  by  the  early  Persian  kings.  But  for  thousands  of  years 
they  had  been  mere  unintelligible  enigmas  to  the  curious  but 
bafifled  beholder ;  and  they  were  often  referred  to  as  instances 
of  the  folly  of  human  pride,  which  could  indeed  write  its  own 
praises  in  the  solid  rock,  but  only  for  the  rock  to  outlive  the 
language  as  well  as  the  memory  of  the  vainglorious  inscribers. 
The  elder  Niebuhr,  Grotefend,  and  Lassen,  had  made  some 
guesses  at  the  meaning  of  the  Cuneiform  letters ;  bui  Major 
Rawlinson,  of  the  East  India  Company's  service,  after  years 
of  labor,  has  at  last  accomplished  the  glorious  achievement  of 
fully  revealing  the  alphabet  and  the  grammar  of  this  long  un- 
known tongue.  He  has,  in  particular,  fully  deciphered  and  ex- 
pounded the  inscription  on  the  sacred  rock  of  Behistun,  on 
the  western  frontiers  of  Media.  These  records  of  the  Achse- 
menidse  have  at  length  found  their  interpreter;  and  Darius 
himself  speaks  to  us  from  the  consecrated  mountain,  and  tells 
us  the  names  of  the  nations  that  obeyed  him,  the  revolts  that  he 
suppressed,  his  victories,  his  piety,  and  his  glory.* 

Kings  who  thus  seek  the  admiration  of  posterity  are  little 
likely  to  dim  the  record  of  their  successes  by  the  mention  of 
their  occasional  defeats ;  and  it  throws  no  suspicion  on  the 
narrative  of  the  Greek  historians  that  we  find  these  inscriptions 
silent  respecting  the  overthrow  of  Datis  and  Artaphernes,  as 
well  as  respecting  the  reverses  which  Darius  sustained  in  per- 
son during  his  Scythian  campaigns.  But  these  indisputable 
monuments  of  Persian  fame  confirm,  and  even  increase  the 
opinion  with  which  Herodotus  inspires  us  of  the  vast  power 
which  Cyrus  founded  and  Cambyses  increased ;  which  Darius 
augmented  by  Indian  and  Arabian  conquests,  and  seemed  likely, 
when  he  directed  his  arms  against  Europe,  to  make  the  pre- 
dominant monarchy  of  the  world. 

With  the  exception  of  the  Chinese  empire,  in  which,  through- 
out all  ages  down  to  the  last  few  years,  one-third  of  the  human 
race  has  dwelt  almost  unconnected  with  the  other  portions,  all 
the  great  kingdoms,  which  we  know  to  have  existed  in  ancient 
Asia,  were,  in  Darius'  time,  blended  into  the  Persian.     The 

*  See  the  tenth  volume  of  the  "  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society." 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  15 

northern  Indians,  the  Assyrians,  the  Syrians,  the  Babylonians, 
the  Chaldees,  the  Phoenicians,  the  nations  of  Palestine,  the 
Armenians,  the  Bactrians,  the  Lydians,  the  Phrygians,  the 
Parthians,  and  the  Medes,  all  obeyed  the  sceptre  of  the  Great 
King:  the  Medes  standing  next  to  the  native  Persians  in 
honor,  and  the  empire  being  frequently  spoken  of  as  that  of  the 
Medes,  or  as  that  of  the  Medes  and  Persians.  Egypt  and  Gy- 
rene were  Persian  provinces ;  the  Greek  colonists  in  Asia 
Minor  and  the  islands  of  the  ^gaean  were  Darius'  subjects ; 
and  their  gallant  but  unsuccessful  attempts  to  throw  off  the 
Persian  yoke  had  only  served  to  rivet  it  more  strongly,  and  to 
increase  the  general  belief  that  the  Greeks  could  not  stand  be- 
fore the  Persians  in  a  field  of  battle.  Darius'  Scythian  war, 
though  unsuccessful  in  its  immediate  object,  had  brought  about 
the  subjugation  of  Thrace  and  the  submission  of  Macedonia. 
From  the  Indus  to  the  Peneus,  all  was  his. 

We  may  imagine  the  wrath  with  which  the  lord  of  so  many 
nations  must  have  heard,  nine  years  before  the  battle  of  Mara- 
thon, that  a  strange  nation  toward  the  setting  sun,  called  the 
Athenians,  had  dared  to  help  his  rebels  in  Ionia  against  him,  and 
that  they  had  plundered  and  burned  the  capital  of  one  of  his 
provinces.  Before  the  burning  of  Sardis,  Darius  seems  never 
to  have  heard  of  the  existence  of  Athens ;  but  his  satraps  in 
Asia  Minor  had  for  some  time  seen  Athenian  refugees  at  their 
provincial  courts  imploring  assistance  against  their  fellow- 
countrymen.  When  Hippias  was  driven  away  from  Athens, 
and  the  tyrannic  dynasty  of  the  Pisistratidge  finally  overthrown 
in  510  B.  c,  the  banished  tyrant  and  his  adherents,  after  vainly 
seeking  to  be  restored  by  Spartan  intervention,  had  betaken 
themselves  to  Sardis,  the  capital  city  of  the  satrapy  of  Arta- 
phernes.  There  Hippias  (in  the  expressive  words  of  Herodo- 
tus *)  began  every  kind  of  agitation,  slandering  the  Athenians 
before  Artaphernes,  and  doing  all  he  could  to  induce  the  satrap 
to  place  Athens  in  subjection  to  him,  as  the  tributary  vassal  of 
King  Darius.  When  the  Athenians  heard  of  his  practices,  they 
sent  envoys  to  Sardis  to  remonstrate  with  the  Persians  against 
taking  up  the  quarrel  of  the  Athenian  refugees. 

But  Artaphernes  gave  them  in  reply  a  menacing  command 
to  receive  Hippias  back  again  if  they  looked  for  safety.  The 
Athenians  were  resolved  not  to  purchase  safety  at  such  a  price, 
*  Herod.,  lib.  v.,  c.  96. 


i6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

and  after  rejecting  the  satrap's  terms,  they  considered  that  they 
and  the  Persians  were  declared  enemies.  At  this  very  crisis 
the  Ionian  Greeks  implored  the  assistance  of  their  European 
brethren,  to  enable  them  to  recover  their  independence  from 
Persia.  Athens,  and  the  city  of  Eretria  in  Euboea,  alone  con- 
sented. Twenty  Athenian  galleys,  and  five  Eretrian,  crossed 
the  ^gsean  Sea,  and  by  a  bold  and  sudden  march  upon  Sardis, 
the  Athenians  and  their  allies  succeeded  in  capturing  the  capi- 
tal city  of  the  haughty  satrap,  who  had  recently  menaced  them 
with  servitude  or  destruction.  They  were  pursued,  and  de- 
feated on  their  return  to  the  coast,  and  Athens  took  no  further 
part  in  the  Ionian  war;  but  the  insult  that  she  had  put  upon 
the  Persian  power  was  speedily  made  known  throughout  the 
empire,  and  was  never  to  be  forgiven  or  forgotten.  In  the  em- 
phatic simplicity  of  the  narrative  of  Herodotus,  the  wrath  of 
the  Great  King  is  thus  described :  "  Now  when  it  was  told  to 
King  Darius  that  Sardis  had  been  taken  and  burned  by  the 
Athenians  and  lonians,  he  took  small  heed  of  the  lonians,  well 
knowing  who  they  were,  and  that  their  revolt  would  soon  be 
put  down ;  but  he  asked  who,  and  what  manner  of  men,  the 
Athenians  were.  And  when  he  had  been  told,  he  called  for  his 
bow ;  and,  having  taken  it,  and  placed  an  arrow  on  the  string, 
he  let  the  arrow  fly  toward  heaven ;  and  as  he  shot  it  into  the 
air,  he  said,  '  Oh !  supreme  God,  grant  me  that  I  may  avenge 
myself  on  the  Athenians.'  And  when  he  had  said  this,  he  ap- 
pointed one  of  his  servants  to  say  to  him  every  day  as  he  sat 
at  meat, '  Sire,jemember  the  Athemans.'  " 

Some  years  were  occupied  in  the'complete  reduction  of 
Ionia.  But  when  this  was  effected,  Darius  ordered  his  vic- 
torious forces  to  proceed  to  punish  Athens  and  Eretria,  and  to 
conquer  European  Greece^^  The  first  armanent  sent  for  this 
purpose  was  shattered  by  shipwreck,  and  nearly  destroyed  ofif 
Mount  Athos.  But  the  purpose  of  King  Darius  was  not  easily 
shaken.*" A  larger  army  was  ordered  to  be  collected  in  Cilicia, 
and  requisitions  were  sent  to  all  the  maritime  cities  of  the 
Persian  empire  for  ships  of  war,  and  for  transports  of  sufificient 
size  for  carrying  cavalry  as  well  as  infantry  across  the  .^gaean. 
While  these  preparations  were  being  made,  Darius  sent  heralds 
round  to  the  Grecian  cities  demanding  their  submission  to 
Persia.  It  was  proclaimed  in  the  market-place  of  each  little 
Hellenic  state  (some  with  territories  not  larger  than  the  Isle 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  17 

of  Wight),  that  King  Darius,  the  lord  of  all  men,  from  the  ris- 
ing to  the  setting  sun,*  required  earth  and  water  to  be  delivered 
to  his  heralds,  as  a  symbolical  acknowledgment  that  he  was 
head  and  master  of  the  country.  Terror-stricken  at  the  power 
of  Persia  and  at  the  severe  punishment  that  had  recently  been 
inflicted  on  the  refractory  lonians,  many  of  the  continental 
Greeks  and  nearly  all  the  islanders  submitted,  and  gave  the 
required  tokens  of  vassalage.  At  Sparta  and  Athens  an  indig- 
nant refusal  was  returned — a  refusal  which  was  disgraced  by 
outrage  and  violence  against  the  persons  of  the  Asiatic  heralds. 

Fresh  fuel  was  thus  added  to  the  anger  of  Darius  against 
Athens,  and  the  Persian  preparations  went  on  with  renewed 
vigor.  In  the  summer  of  490  b.  c,  the  army  destined  for  the 
invasion  was  assembled  in  the  Aleian  plain  of  Cilicia,  near  the 
sea.  A  fleet  of  six  hundred  galleys  and  numerous  transports 
was  collected  on  the  coast  for  the  embarkation  of  troops,  horse 
as  well  as  foot.  A  Median  general  named  Datis,  and  Arta- 
phernes,  the  son  of  the  satrap  of  Sardis,  and  who  was  also 
nephew  of  Darius,  were  placed  in  titular  joint  command  of  the 
expedition.  The  real  supreme  authority  was  probably  given 
to  Datis  alone,  from  the  way  in  which  the  Greek  writers  speak 
of  him.  We  know  no  details  of  the  previous  career  of  this 
officer;  but  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  his  abilities 
and  bravery  had  been  proved  by  experience,  or  his  Median 
birth  would  have  prevented  his  being  placed  in  high  command 
by  Darius.  He  appears  to  have  been  the  first  Mede  who  was 
thus  trusted  by  the  Persian  kings  after  the  overthrow  of  the 
conspiracy  of  the  Median  magi  against  the  Persians  imme- 
diately before  Darius  obtained  the  throne.  Datis  received  in- 
structions to  complete  the  subjugation  of  Greece,  and  especial 
orders  were  given  him  with  regard  to  Eretria  and  Athens. 
He  was  to  take  these  two  cities,  and  he  was  to  lead  the  inhabi- 
tants away  captive,  and  bring  them  as  slaves  into  the  presence 
of  the  Great  King. 

Datis  embarked  his  forces  in  the  fleet  that  awaited  them, 

*^schines  in  Ctes.,  p.  522,  ed.  Reiske.  Mitford,  vol.  i.,  p.  485. 
^schines  is  speaking  of  Xerxes,  but  Mitford  is  probably  right  in  con- 
sidering it  as  the  style  of  the  Persian  kings  in  their  proclamations.  _  In 
one  of  the  inscriptions  at  Persepolis,  Darius  terms  himself  "  Darius, 
the  great  king,  king  of  kings,  the  king  of  the  many-peopled  countries, 
the  supporter  also  of  this  great  world."  In  another,  he  styles  himself 
"  the  king  of  all  inhabited  countries."  (See  "  Asiatic  Journal,"  vol.  x., 
pp.  287  and  292,  and  Major  Rawlinson's  Comments.) 
2 


i8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

and  coasting  along  the  shores  of  Asia  Minor  till  he  was  off 
Samos,  he  thence  sailed  due  westward  through  the  ^gaean 
Sea  for  Greece,  taking  the  islands  in  his  way.  The  Naxians 
had,  ten  years  before,  successfully  stood  a  siege  against  a  Per- 
sian armament,  but  they  now  were  too  terrified  to  offer  any 
resistance,  and  fled  to  the  mountain  tops,  while  the  enemy 
burned  their  town  and  laid  waste  their  lands.  Thence  Datis, 
compelling  the  Greek  islanders  to  join  him  with  their  ships 
and  men,  sailed  onward  to  the  coast  of  Euboea.  The  little  town 
of  Carystus  essayed  resistance,  but  was  quickly  overpowered. 
He  next  attacked  Eretria.  The  Athenians  sent  four  thousand 
men  to  its  aid ;  but  treachery  was  at  work  among  the  Ere- 
trians ;  and  the  Athenian  force  received  timely  warning  from 
one  of  the  leading  men  of  the  city  to  retire  to  aid  in  saving  their 
own  country,  instead  of  remaining  to  share  in  the  inevitable 
destruction  of  Eretria.  Left  to  themselves,  the  Eretrians  re- 
pulsed the  assaults  of  the  Persians  against  their  walls  for  six 
days  ;  on  the  seventh  they  were  betrayed  by  two  of  their  chiefs, 
and  the  Persians  occupied  the  city.  The  temples  were  burned 
in  revenge  for  the  firing  of  Sardis,  and  the  inhabitants  were 
bound,  and  placed  as  prisoners  in  the  neighboring  islet  of 
.^gilia,  to  wait  there  till  Datis  should  bring  the  Athenians  to 
join  them  in  captivity,  whenBoth  populations  were  to  be  led 
into  Upper  Asia,  there  to  learn  their  doom  from  the  lips  of 
King  Darius  himself. 

Flushed  with  success^  and  with  half  his  mission  thus  ac- 
complished, Datis  re-embarked  his  troops,  and,  crossing  the 
little  channel  that  separates  Euboea  from  the  mainland,  he  en- 
camped his  troops  on  the  Attic  coast  at  Marathon,  drawing  up 
his  galleys  on  the  shelving  beach,  as  was  the  custom  with  the 
navies  of  antiquity.  The  conquered  islands  behind  him  served 
as  places  of  deposit  for  his  provisions  and  military  stores.  His 
position  at  Marathon  seemed  to  him  in  every  respect  advanta- 
geous, and  the  level  nature  of  the  ground  on  which  he  camped 
was  favorable  for  the  employment  of  his  cavalry,  if  the  Athe- 
nians should  venture  to  engage  him.  Hippias,  who  accom- 
panied him,  and  acted  as  the  guide  of  the  invaders,  had  pointed 
out  Marathon  as  the  best  place  for  a  landing,  for  this  very  rea- 
son. Probably  Hippias  was  also  influenced  by  the  recollection 
that  forty-seven  years  previously,  he,  with  his  father  Pisistratus, 
had  crossed  with  an  army  from  Eretria  to  Marathon,  and  had 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  19 

won  an  easy  victory  over  their  Athenian  enemies  on  that  very 
plain,  which  had  restored  them  to  tyrannic  power.  The  omen 
seemed  cheering.  The  place  was  the  same,  but  Hippias  soon 
learned  to  his  cost  how  great  a  change  had  come  over  the 
spirit  of  the  Athenians. 

But  though  "  the  fierce  democracy  "  of  Athens  was  zealous 
and  true  against  foreign  invader  and  domestic  tyrant,  a  faction 
existed  in  Athens,  as  at  Eretria,  who  were  willing  to  purchase 
a  party  triumph  over  their  fellow-citizens  at  the  price  of  their 
country's  ruin.  Communications  were  opened  between  these 
men  and  the  Persian  camp,  which  would  have  led  to  a  catas- 
trophe like  that  of  Eretria,  if  Miltiades  had  not  resolved  and 
persuaded  his  colleagues  to  resolve  on  fighting  at  all  hazards. 

When  Miltiades  arrayed  his  men  for  action,  he  staked  on 
the  arbitrament  of  one  battle  not  only  the  fate  of  Athens,  but 
that  of  all  Greece ;  for  if  Athens  had  fallen,  no  other  Greek 
state,  except  Lacedsemon,  would  have  had  the  courage  to  re- 
sist ;  and  the  Lacedaemonians,  though  they  would  probably 
have  died  in  their  ranks  to  the  last  man,  never  could  have  suc- 
cessfully resisted  the  victorious  Persians  and  the  numerous 
Greek  troops  which  would  have  soon  marched  under  the  Per- 
sian satraps,  had  they  prevailed  over  Athens. 

Nor  was  there  any  power  to  the  westward  of  Greece  that 
could  have  offered  an  effectual  opposition  to  Persia,  had  she  once 
conquered  Greece,  and  made  that  country  a  basis  for  future 
military  operations.  Rome  was  at  this  time  in  her  season  of 
utmost  weakness.  Her  dynasty  of  powerful  Etruscan  kings 
had  been  driven  out ;  and  her  infant  commonwealth  was  reel- 
ing under  the  attacks  of  the  Etruscans  and  Volscians  from  with- 
out, and  the  fierce  dissensions  between  the  patricians  and 
plebeians  within.  Etruria,  with  her  Lucumos  and  serfs,  was  no 
match  for  Persia.  Samnium  had  not  grown  into  the  might 
which  she  afterward  put  forth  ;  nor  could  the  Greek  colonies  in 
South  Italy  and  Sicily  hope  to  conquer  when  their  parent  states 
had  perished.  Carthage  had  escaped  the  Persian  yoke  in  the 
time  of  Cambyses,  through  the  reluctance  of  the  Phoenician 
mariners  to  serve  against  their  kinsmen.  But  such  forbear- 
ance could  not  long  have  been  relied  on,  and  the  future  rival  of 
Rome  would  have  become  as  submissive  a  minister  of  the  Per- 
sian power  as  were  the  Phoenician  cities  themselves.  If  we 
turn  to  Spain ;  or  if  we  pass  the  great  mountain  chain,  which, 


20  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

prolonged  through  the  Pyrenees,  the  Cevennes,  the  Alps,  and 
the  Balkan,  divides  Northern  from  Southern  Europe,  we  shall 
find  nothing  at  that  period  but  mere  savage  Finns,  Celts,  Slavs, 
and  Teutons.  Had  Persia  beaten  Athens  at  Marathon,  she 
could  have  found  no  obstacle  to  prevent  Darius,  the  chosen  ser- 
vant of  Ormuzd,  from  advancing  his  sway  over  all  the  known 
Western  races  of  mankind.  The  infant  energies  of  Europe 
would  have  been  trodden  out  beneath  universal  conquest,  and 
the  history  of  the  world,  like  the  history  of  Asia,  have  become 
a  mere  record  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  despotic  dynasties,  of  the 
incursions  of  barbarous  hordes,  and  of  the  mental  and  political 
prostration  of  millions  beneath  the  diadem,  the  tiara,  and  the 
sword. 

Great  as  the  preponderance  of  the  Persian  over  the  Athenian 
power  at  that  crisis  seems  to  have  been,  it  would  be  unjust  to 
impute  wild  rashness  to  the  policy  of  Miltiades,  and  those  who 
voted  with  him  in  the  Athenian  council  of  war,  or  to  look  on 
the  after-current  of  events  as  the  mere  fortunate  result  of  suc- 
cessful folly.  As  before  has  been  remarked,  Miltiades,  while 
prince  of  the  Chersonese,  had  seen  service  in  the  Persian 
armies ;  and  he  knew  by  personal  observation  how  many  ele- 
ments of  weakness  lurked  beneath  their  imposing  aspect  of 
strength.  He  knew  that  the  bulk  of  their  troops  no  longer 
consisted  of  the  hardy  shepherds  and  mountaineers  from  Persia 
proper  and  Kurdistan,  who  won  Cyrus's  battles  ;  but  that  un- 
willing contingents  from  conquered  nations  now  filled  up  the 
Persian  muster-rolls,  fighting  more  from  compulsion  than 
from  any  zeal  in  the  cause  of  their  masters.  He  had  also  the 
sagacity  and  the  spirit  to  appreciate  the  superiority  of  the  Greek 
armor  and  organization  over  the  Asiatic,  notwithstanding 
former  reverses.  Above  all,  he  felt  and  worthily-trusted  the  en- 
thusiasm of  those  whom  he  led. 

The  Athenians  whom  he  led  had  proved  by  their  newborn 
valor  in  recent  wars  against  the  neighboring  states  that  "  lib- 
erty and  equality  of  civic  rights  are  brave  spirit-stirring  things, 
and  they,  who,  while  under  the  yoke  of  a  despot,  had  been  no 
better  men  of  war  than  any  of  their  neighbors,  as  soon  as  they 
were  free,  became  the  foremost  men  of  all ;  for  each  felt  that  in 
fighting  for  a  free  commonwealth,  he  fought  for  himself,  and 
whatever  he  took  in  hand,  he  was  zealous  to  do  the  work  thor- 
oughly."   So  the  nearly  contemporaneous  historian  describes 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  2i 

the  change  of  spirit  that  was  seen  in  the  Athenians  after  their 
tyrants  were  expelled ;  *  and  Miltiades  knew  that  in  leading 
them  against  the  invading  army,  where  they  had  Hippias,  the 
foe  they  most  hated,  before  them,  he  was  bringing  into  battle 
no  ordinary  men,  and  could  calculate  on  ordinary  heroism. 
As  for  traitors,  he  was  sure  that,  whatever  treachery  might  lurk 
among  some  of  the  higher-born  and  wealthier  Athenians,  the 
rank  and  file  whom  he  commanded  were  ready  to  do  their  ut- 
most in  his  and  their  own  cause.  With  regard  to  future  attacks 
from  Asia,  he  might  reasonably  hope  that  one  victory  would 
inspirit  all  Greece  to  combine  against  the  common  foe ;  and 
that  the  latent  seeds  of  revolt  and  disunion  in  the  Persian  em- 
pire would  soon  burst  forth  and  paralyze  its  energies,  so  as  to 
leave  Greek  independence  secure. 

With  these  hopes  and  risks,  Miltiades,  on  the  afternoon  of  a 
September  day,  490  B.C.,  gave  the  word  for  the  Athenian 
army  to  prepare  the  battle.  There  were  many  local  associa- 
tions connected  with  those  mountain  heights  which  were  cal- 
culated powerfully  to  excite  the  spirits  of  the  men,  and  of  which 
the  commanders  well  knew  how  to  avail  themselves  in  their 
exhortations  to  their  troops  before  the  encounter.  Marathon 
itself  was  a  region  sacred  to  Hercules.  Close  to  them  was  the 
fountain  of  Macaria,  who  had  in  days  of  yore  devoted  herself 
to  death  for  the  liberty  of  her  people.  The  very  plain  on  which 
they  were  to  fight  was  the  scene  of  the  exploits  of  their  national 
hero,  Theseus ;  and  there,  too,  as  old  legends  told,  the  Athe- 
nians and  the  Heraclidse  had  routed  the  invader,  Eurystheus. 
These  traditions  were  not  mere  cloudy  myths  or  idle  fictions, 
but  matters  of  implicit  earnest  faith  to  the  men  of  that  day,  and 
many  a  fervent  prayer  arose  from  the  Athenian  ranks  to  the 
heroic  spirits  who,  while  on  earth,  had  striven  and  suffered  on 

*  'Ab7iva7oi  /xev  vxJv  tj^^t/j'to  '  St^Xo?  Se  oi)  kwt  ev  ixSvov  aWci  iraPTaxv  V  'Iffrtyoplt) 
ws  tffTi  XP^t^"-  (TirovSaiov,  et  Ka\  'A^yaToi  Tvpavvev6ixevoi  fxei/  oiiSafiov  rwv  ffcpeas 
iripioLK(6vTwv  ta-av  ra  iroXefxia  o^ueiVoMS,  airaWdx^evTes  Se  Tvpavvwu  fj.aKp<p  npwToi 
kyivovro  "  St/XoT  S>v  ravra  '6ti  KarexofJ-foi  i^ei/  ^be^OKixKeov,  i?  SeffTrirri  epya(6- 
fievoi  •  eKev^fpcobevTWv  5e  aiiThs  fKaffTOS  kwvrcp  irpo^vfieero  Karepyd^ea^ai.  — 
Herod.,  lib.  v.,  c.  87. 

Mr.  Grote's  comment  on  this  is  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  philo- 
sophical passages  in  his  admirable  fourth  volume. 

The  expression  '10-7)70^/77  XPW**  ffirovBalov  is  like  some  lines  in  old 
Barbour's  poem  of  "  The  Bruce  "  : 

"  Ah,  Fredome  is  a  noble  thing ; 
Fredome  makes  man  to  haiff  lyking, 
Freedome  all  solace  to  men  gives. 
He  lives  at  ease  that  freely  lives." 


22  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

that  very  spot,  and  who  were  believed  to  be  now  heavenly 
powers,  looking  down  with  interest  on  their  still  beloved  coun- 
try, and  capable  of  interposing  with  superhuman  aid  in  its  be- 
half. 

According  to  old  national  custom,  the  warriors  of  each  tribe 
were  arrayed  together;   neighbor  thus  fighting  by  the  side  of 
neighbor,  friend  by  friend,  and  the  spirit  of  emulation  and  the 
consciousness  of  responsibility  excited  to  the  very  utmost.   The 
War-ruler,  Callimachus,  had  the  leading  of  the  right  wing; 
the  Plataeans  formed  the  extreme  left;   and  Themistocles  and 
Aristides  commanded  the  centre.     The  line  consisted  of  the 
heavy  armed  spearmen  only ;  for  the  Greeks  (until  the  time  of 
Iphicrates)  took  little  or  no  account  of  light-armed  soldiers  in 
a  pitched  battle,  using  them  only  in  skirmishes,  or  for  the  pur- 
suit of  a  defeated  enemy.    The  panoply  of  the  regular  infantry 
consisted  of  a  long  spear,  of  a  shield,  helmet,  breast-plate, 
greaves,  and  short  sword.     Thus  equipped,  they  usually  ad- 
vanced slowly  and  steadily  into  action  in  a  uniform  phalanx  of 
about  eight  spears  deep.    But  the  military  genius  of  Aliltiades 
led  him  to  deviate  on  this  occasion  from  the  commonplace  tac- 
tics of  his  countrymen.    It  was  essential  for  him  to  extend  his 
line  so  as  to  cover  all  the  practicable  ground,  and  to  secure 
himself  from  being  outflanked  and  charged  in  the  rear  by  the 
Persian  horse.    This  extension  involved  the  weakening  of  his 
line.     Instead  of  a  uniform  reduction  of  its  strength,  he  deter- 
mined on  detaching  principally  from  his  centre,  which,  from 
the  nature  of  the  ground,  would  have  the  best  opportunities 
for  rallying,  if  broken ;   and  on  strengthening  his  wings  so  as 
to  insure  advantage  at  those  points ;  and  he  trusted  to  his  own 
skill  and  to  his  soldiers'  discipline  for  the  improvement  of  that 
advantage  into  decisive  victory.* 

^  In  this  order,  and  availing  himself  probably  of  the  inequal- 
ities of  the  ground,  so  as  to  conceal  his  preparations  from  the 
enemy  till  the  last  possible  moment,  Miltiades  drew  up  the 

*  It  is  remarkable  that  there  is  no  other  instance  of  a  Greek  general 
deviating  from  the  ordinary  mode  of  bringing  a  phalanx  of  spearmen 
into  action  until  the  battles  of  Leuctra  and  Mantinea,  more  than  a 
centiiry  after  Marathon,  when  Epaminondas  introduced  the  tactics 
which  Alexander  the  Great  in  ancient  times,  and  Frederic  the  Great  in 
modern  times,  made  so  famous,  of  concentrating  an  overpowering  force 
to  bear  on  some  decisive  point  of  the  enemy's  line,  while  he  kept  back 
or,  m  military  phrase,  refused,  the  weaker  part  of  his  own. 

'■  Persae,"  402. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  23 

eleven  thousand  infantry  whose  spears  were  to  decide  this  crisis 
in  the  struggle  between  the  European  and  the  Asiatic  worlds. 
The  sacrifices  by  which  the  favor  of  heavlen  was  sought,  and  its 
will  consulted,  were  announced  to  show  propitious  omens. 
The  trumpet  sounded  for  action,  and,  chanting  the  hymn  of 
battle,  the  little  army  bore  down  upon  the  host  of  the  foe.  Then, 
too,  along  the  mountain  slopes  of  Marathon  must  have  re- 
sounded the  mutual  exhortation,  which  ^schylus,  who  fought 
in  both  battles,  tells  us  was  afterward  heard  over  the  waves  of 
Salamis :  "  On,  sons  of  the  Greeks !  Strike  for  the  freedom  of 
your  country !  strike  for  the  freedom  of  your  children  and  of 
your  wives — for  the  shrines  of  your  fathers'  gods,  and  for 
the  sepulchres  of  your  sires.  All — all  are  now  staked  upon  the 
strife." 

*0  iratSes  'EXXi^vcov  tre 
'^XivSipovT€  irarpiS',  iXevSepovTi  8i 
YlalSa^,  yuvatKas,  ^eojv  re  Trarpwuiv  iSrj, 
®y]Kas  re  Trpoyovwv.      Nw  iirlp  TrdvTuyv  dycov.* 

Instead  of  advancing  at  the  usual  slow  pace  of  the  phalanx, 
Miltiades  brought  his  men  on  at  a  run.  They  were  all  trained 
in  the  exercise  of  the  palaestra,  so  that  there  was  no  fear  of  their 
ending  the  charge  in  breathless  exhaustion ;  and  it  was  of  the 
deepest  importance  for  him  to  traverse  as  rapidly  as  possible 
the  mile  or  so  of  level  ground  that  lay  between  the  mountain 
foot  and  the  Persian  outposts,  and  so  to  get  his  troops  into 
close  action  before  the  Asiatic  cavalry  could  mount,  form  and 
manoeuvre  against  him,  or  their  archers  keep  him  long  under 
fire,  and  before  the  enemy's  generals  could  fairly  deploy  their 
masses.  "  When  the  Persians,"  says  Herodotus,  "  saw  the 
Athenians  running  down  on  them,  without  horse  or  bowmen, 
and  scanty  in  numbers,  they  thought  them  a  set  of  madmen 
rushing  upon  certain  destruction."  They  began,  however,  to 
prepare  to  receive  them,  and  the  Eastern  chiefs  arrayed,  as 
quickly  as  time  and  place  allowed,  the  varied  races  who  served 
in  their  motley  ranks.  Mountaineers  from  Hyrcania  and  Af- 
ghanistan, wild  horsemen  from  the  steppes  of  Khorassan,  the 
black  archers  of  Ethiopia,  swordsmen  from  the  banks  of  the 
Indus,  the  Oxus,  the  Euphrates  and  the  Nile,  made  ready 
against  the  enemies  of  the  Great  King.  But  no  national  cause 
inspired  them  except  the  division  of  native  Persians ;   and  in 

*  Persse,  402. 


24  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

the  large  host  there  was  no  uniformity  of  language,  creed,  race 
or  mihtary  system.  Still,  among  them  there  were  many  gallant 
men,  under  a  veteran  general ;  they  were  familiarized  with 
victory,  and  in  contemptuous  confidence,  their  infantry,  which 
alone  had  time  to  form,  awaited  the  Athenian  charge.  On 
came  the  Greeks,  with  one  unwavering  line  of  levelled  spears, 
against  which  the  light  targets,  the  short  lances  and  cimeters 
of  the  Orientals,  offered  weak  defence.  The  front  rank  of  the 
Asiatics  must  have  gone  down  to  a  man  at  the  first  shock.  Still 
they  recoiled  not,  but  strove  by  individual  gallantry  and  by  the 
weight  of  numbers  to  make  up  for  the  disadvantages  of  weap- 
ons and  tactics,  and  to  bear  back  the  shallow  line  of  the  Euro- 
peans. In  the  centre,  where  the  native  Persians  and  the  Sacae 
fought,  they  succeeded  in  breaking  through  the  weakened  part 
of  th  Athenian  phalanx;  and  the  tribes  led  by  Aristides  and 
Themistocles  were,  after  a  brave  resistance,  driven  back  over 
the  plain,  and  chased  by  the  Persians  up  the  valley  toward 
the  inner  country.  There  the  nature  of  the  ground  gave  the 
opportunity  of  rallying  and  renewing  the  struggle.  Mean- 
while, the  Greek  wings,  where  Miltiades  had  concentrated  his 
chief  strength,  had  routed  the  Asiatics  opposed  to  them ;  and 
the  Athenian  and  Plataean  officers,  instead  of  pursuing  the  fugi- 
tives, kept  their  troops  well  in  hand,  and,  wheeling  round,  they 
formed  the  two  wings  together.  Miltiades  instantly  led  them 
against  the  Persian  centre,  which  had  hitherto  been  triumphant, 
but  which  now  fell  back,  and  prepared  to  encounter  these  new 
and  unexpected  assailants.  Aristides  and  Themistocles  re- 
newed the  fight  with  their  reorganized  troops,  and  the  full  force 
of  the  Greeks  was  brought  into  close  action  with  the  Persian 
and  Sacian  divisions  of  the  enemy.  Datis'  veterans  strove  hard 
to  keep  their  ground,  and  evening*  was  approaching  before  the 
stern  encounter  was  decided. 

But  the  Persians,  with  their  slight  wicker  shields,  destitute 
of  body-armor,  and  never  taught  by  training  to  keep  the  even 
front  and  act  with  the  regular  movement  of  the  Greek  infantry, 
fought  at  heavy  disadvantage  with  their  shorter  and  feebler 
weapons  against  the  compact  array  of  well-armed  Athenian 
and  Plataean  spearmen,  all  perfectly  drilled  to  perform  each 
necessary  evolution  in  concert,  and  to  preserve  a  uniform  and 

*  'AAA'  2/xwt  awucr6iJi,eada  ^iiv  6eo7s  -rrpht  fo-irepa. 

— Aristoph.,  Vesuoe,  1085. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON 


25 


unwavering  line  in  battle.  In  personal  courage  and  in  bodily 
activity  the  Persians  were  not  inferior  to  their  adversaries. 
Their  spirits  were  not  yet  cowed  by  the  recollection  of  former 
defeats ;  and  they  lavished  their  lives  freely,  rather  than  forfeit 
the  fame  which  they  had  won  by  so  many  victories.  While 
their  rear  ranks  poured  an  incessant  shower  of  arrows  f  over 
the  heads  of  their  comrades,  the  foremost  Persians  kept  rush- 
ing forward,  sometimes  singly,  sometimes  in  desperate  groups 
of  twelve  or  ten  upon  the  projecting  spears  of  the  Greeks,  striv- 
ing to  force  a  lane  into  the  phalanx,  and  to  bring  their  cimeters 
and  daggers  into  play. J  But  the  Greeks  felt  their  superiority, 
and  though  the  fatigue  of  the  long-continued  action  told  heav- 
ily on  their  inferior  numbers,  the  sight  of  the  carnage  that  they 
dealt  upon  their  assailants  nerved  them  to  fight  still  more 
fiercely  on. 

At  last  the  previously  unvanquished  lords  of  Asia  turned 
their  backs  and  fled,  and  the  Greeks  followed,  striking  them 
down,  to  the  water's  edge,*  where  the  invaders  were  now 
hastily  launching  their  galleys,  and  seeking  to  embark  and  fly. 
Flushed  with  success,  the  Athenians  attacked  and  strove  to  fire 
the  fleet.  But  here  the  Asiatics  resisted  desperately,  and  the 
principal  loss  sustained  by  the  Greeks  was  in  the  assault  on 
the  ships.  Here  fell  the  brave  War-ruler  Callimachus,  the  gen- 
eral Stesilaus,  and  other  Athenians  of  note.  Seven  galleys 
were  fired  ;  but  the  Persians  succeeded  in  saving  the  rest.  They 
pushed  ofT  from  the  fatal  shore  ;  but  even  here  the  skill  of  Datis 
did  not  desert  him,  and  he  sailed  round  to  the  western  coast  of 

•j-  'E/xax^f'fcB'  avTo7(Ti,  Qv/xov  o^ivr)v  irenwKiTes, 
Stos  a.vi]p  irap'  avffp  vt"  opyrjs  rijv  x^^vyrjy  iffdiuv  ' 
'Tirh  Sh  Tuv  TO^evixdruv  ovk  rjv  ISfiv  rbv  ovpavhv. 

— Aristoph.,  Vespce,  1082. 
t  See  the  description  in  the  62d  section  of  the  ninth  book  of  Herodotus 
of  the  gallantry  shown  by  the  Persian  infantry  against  the  Lacedae- 
monians at  Platsea.  We  have  no  similar  detail  of  the  fight  at  Marathon, 
but  we  know  that  it  was  long  and  obstinately  contested  (see  the  113th 
section  of  the  sixth  book  of  Herodotus,  and  the  lines  from  the  Vespse 
already  quoted),  and  the  spirit  of  the  Persians  rnust  have  been  even 
higher  at  Marathon  than  at  Platsea.  In  both  battles  it  was  only  the 
true  Persians  and  the  Sacse  who  showed  this  valor;  the  other  Asiatics 
fled  like  sheep. 

*  The  flying  Mede,  his  shaftless  broken  bow ; 
The  fiery  Greek,  his  red  pursuing  spear; 
Mountains  above.  Earth's,  Oceans's  plain  below, 
Death  in  the  front,  Destruction  in  the  rear! 
Such  was  the  scene. — Byron's  Cliilde  Harold. 


26  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Attica,  in  hopes  to  find  the  city  unprotected,  and  to  gain  pos- 
session of  it  from  some  of  the  partisans  of  Hippias.  Miltiades, 
however,  saw  and  counteracted  his  manoeuvre.  Leaving 
Aristides,  and  the  troops  of  his  tribe,  to  guard  the  spoil  and  the 
slain,  the  Athenian  commander  led  his  conquering  army  by  a 
rapid  night-march  back  across  the  country  to  Athens.  And 
when  the  Persian  fleet  had  doubled  the  Cape  of  Sunium  and 
sailed  up  to  the  Athenian  harbor  in  the  morning,  Datis  saw  ar- 
rayed on  the  heights  above  the  city  the  troops  before  whom  his 
men  had  fled  on  the  preceding  evening.  All  hope  of  further  con- 
quest in  Europe  for  the  time  was  abandoned,  and  the  bafHed 
armada  returned  to  the  Asiatic  coasts. 

After  the  battle  had  been  fought,  but  while  the  dead  bodies 
were  yet  on  the  ground,  the  promised  re-enforcement  from 
Sparta  arrived.  Two  thousand  Lacedaemonian  spearmen, 
starting  immediately  after  the  full  moon,  had  marched  the  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  between  Athens  and  Sparta  in  the  wonder- 
fully short  time  of  three  days.  Though  too  late  to  share  in  the 
glory  of  the  action,  they  requested  to  be  allowed  to  march  to  the 
battle-field  to  behold  the  Medes.  They  proceeded  thither, 
gazed  on  the  dead  bodies  of  the  invaders,  and  then  praising  the 
Athenians  and  what  they  had  done,  they  returned  to  Lace- 
daemon. 

The  number  of  the  Persian  dead  was  6,400 ;  of  the  Athenians, 
192,  The  number  of  the  Plataeans  who  fell  is  not  mentioned ; 
but,  as  they  fought  in  the  part  of  the  army  which  was  not 
broken,  it  cannot  have  been  large. 

The  apparent  disproportion  between  the  losses  of  the  two 
armies  is  not  surprising  when  we  remember  the  armor  of  the 
Greek  spearmen,  and  the  impossibility  of  heavy  slaughter  be- 
ing inflicted  by  sword  or  lance  on  troops  so  armed,  as  long  as 
they  kept  firm  in  their  ranks.* 

The  Athenian  slain  were  buried  on  the  field  of  battle.  This 
was  contrary  to  the  usual  custom,  according  to  which  the  bones 
of  all  who  fell  fighting  for  their  country  in  each  year  were  de- 
posited in  a  public  sepulchre  in  the  suburb  of  Athens  called  the 
Cerameicus.  But  it  was  felt  that  a  distinction  ought  to  be 
made  in  the  funeral  honors  paid  to  the  men  of  Marathon,  even 
as  their  merit  had  been  distinguished  over  that  of  all  other 

*  Mitford  well  refers  to  Crecy.  Poitiers,  and  Agincourt  as  instances 
of  similar  disparity  of  loss  between  the  conquerors  and  the  conquered. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  27 

Athenians.  A  lofty  mound  was  raised  on  the  plain  of  Mara- 
thon, beneath  which  the  remains  of  the  men  of  Athens  who  fell 
in  the  battle  were  deposited.  Ten  columns  were  erected  on 
the  spot,  one  for  each  of  the  Athenian  tribes  ;  and  on  the  monu- 
mental column  of  each  tribe  were  graven  the  names  of  those  of 
its  members  whose  glory  it  was  to  have  fallen  in  the  great  battle 
of  liberation.  The  antiquarian  Pausanias  read  those  names 
there  six  hundred  years  after  the  time  when  they  were  first 
graven,  f  The  columns  have  long  perished,  but  the  mound  still 
marks  the  spot  where  the  noblest  heroes  of  antiquity,  the 
MapaSwvofxaxot,  repose. 

A  separate  tumulus  was  raised  over  the  bodies  of  the  slain 
Platgeans,  and  another  over  the  light-armed  slaves  who  had 
taken  part  and  had  fallen  in  the  battle.*  There  was  also  a  sepa- 
rate funeral  monument  to  the  general  to  whose  genius  the  vic- 
tory was  mainly  due.  Miltiades  did  not  live  long  after  his 
achievement  at  Marathon,  but  he  lived  long  enough  to  experi- 
ence a  lamentable  reverse  of  his  popularity  and  success.  As 
soon  as  the  Persians  had  quitted  the  western  coasts  of  the 
TEgsean,  he  proposed  to  an  assembly  of  the  Athenian  people 
that  they  should  fit  out  seventy  galleys,  with  a  proportionate 
force  of  soldiers  and  military  stores,  and  place  it  at  his  disposal ; 
not  telling  them  whither  he  meant  to  lead  it,  but  promising 
them  that  if  they  would  equip  the  force  he  asked  for,  and  give 
him  discretionary  powers,  he  would  lead  it  to  a  land  where 
there  was  gold  in  abundance  to  be  won  with  ease.  The  Greeks 
of  that  time  believed  in  the  existence  of  Eastern  realms  teeming 
with  gold,  as  firmly  as  the  Europeans  of  the  sixteenth  century 
believed  in  El  Dorado  of  the  West.  The  Athenians  probably 
thought  that  the  recent  victor  of  Marathon,  and  former  officer 
of  Darius,  was  about  to  lead  them  on  a  secret  expedition  against 
some  wealthy  and  unprotected  cities  of  treasure  in  the  Persian 
dominions.      The  armament  was   voted  and  equipped,   and 

t  Pausanias  states,  with  implicit  belief,  that  the  battle-field  was  haunted 
at  night  by  supernatural  beings,  and  that  the  noise  of  combatants  and 
the  snorting  of  horses  were  heard  to  resound  on  it.  The  superstition 
has  survived  the  change  of  creeds,  and  the  shepherds  of  the  neighbor- 
hood still  believe  that  spectral  warriors  contend  on  the  plain  at  mid- 
night, and  they  say  they  have  heard  the  shouts  of  the  combatants  and 
the  neighing  of  the  steeds.     See  Grote  and  Thirlwall. 

*  It  is  probable  that  the  Greek  light-armed  irregulars  were  active  in 
the  attack  on  the  Persian  ships,  and  it  was  in  this  attack  that  the  Greeks 
suffered  their  principal  loss. 


28  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

sailed  eastward  from  Attica,  no  one  but  Miltiades  knowing  its 
destination  until  the  Greek  isle  of  Paros  was  reached,  when  his 
true  object  appeared.  In  former  years,  while  connected  with 
the  Persians  as  prince  of  the  Chersonese,  Miltiades  had  been  in- 
volved in  a  quarrel  with  one  of  the  leading  men  among  the 
Parians,  who  had  injured  his  credit  and  caused  some  slights  to 
be  put  upon  him  at  the  court  of  the  Persian  satrap  Hydarnes. 
The  feud  had  ever  since  rankled  in  the  heart  of  the  Athenian 
chief,  and  he  now  attacked  Paros  for  the  sake  of  avenging  him- 
self on  his  ancient  enemy.  His  pretext,  as  general  of  the 
Athenians,  was,  that  the  Parians  had  aided  the  armament  of 
Datis  with  a  war-galley.  The  Parians  pretended  to  treat  about 
terms  of  surrender,  but  used  the  time  which  they  thus  gained  in 
repairing  the  defective  parts  of  the  fortifications  of  their  city, 
and  they  then  set  the  Athenians  at  defiance.  So  far,  says 
Herodotus,  the  accounts  of  all  the  Greeks  agree.  But  the 
Parians  in  after  years  told  also  a  wild  legend,  how  a  captive 
priestess  of  a  Parian  temple  of  the  Deities  of  the  Earth  promised 
Miltiades  to  give  him  the  means  of  capturing  Paros ;  how,  at 
her  bidding,  the  Athenian  general  went  alone  at  night  and 
forced  his  way  into  a  holy  shrine,  near  the  city  gate,  but  with 
what  purpose  it  was  not  known  ;  how  a  supernatural  awe  came 
over  him,  and  in  his  fight  he  fell  and  fractured  his  leg;  how  an 
oracle  afterward  forbade  the  Parians  to  punish  the  sacrilegious 
and  traitorous  priestess,  "  because  it  was  fated  that  Miltiades 
should  come  to  an  ill  end,  and  she  was  only  the  instrument  to 
lead  him  to  evil."  Such  was  the  tale  that  Herodotus  heard  at 
Paros.  Certain  it  was  that  Miltiades  either  dislocated  or  broke 
his  leg  during  an  unsuccessful  siege  of  the  city,  and  returned 
home  in  evil  plight  with  his  baffled  and  defeated  forces. 

The  indignation  of  the  Athenians  was  proportionate  to  the 
hope  and  excitement  which  his  promises  had  raised.  Xanthip- 
pas,  the  head  of  one  of  the  first  families  in  Athens,  indicted  him 
before  the  supreme  popular  tribunal  for  the  capital  offense  of 
having  deceived  the  people.  His  guilt  was  undeniable,  and  the 
Athenians  passed  their  verdict  accordingly.  But  the  recollec- 
tions of  Lemnos  and  Marathon,  and  the  sight  of  the  fallen  gen- 
eral, who  lay  stretched  on  a  couch  before  them,  pleaded  suc- 
cessfully in  mitigation  of  punishment,  and  the  sentence  was 
commuted  from  death  to  a  fine  of  fifty  talents.  This  was  paid 
by  his  son,  the  afterward  illustrious  Cimon,  Miltiades  dying, 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON 


29 


soon  after  the  trial,  of  the  injury  which  he  had  received  at 
Paros.* 

The  melancholy  end  of  Miltiades,  after  his  elevation  to  such 
a  height  of  power  and  glory,  must  often  have  been  recalled  to 
the  minds  of  the  ancient  Greeks  by  the  sight  of  one  in  particular 
of  the  memorials  of  the  great  battle  which  he  won.  This  was 
the  remarkable  statue  (minutely  described  by  Pausanias)  which 
the  Athenians,  in  the  time  of  Pericles,  caused  to  be  hewn  out  of 
a  huge  block  of  marble,  which,  it  was  believed,  had  been  pro- 
vided by  Datis,  to  form  a  trophy  of  the  anticipated  victory  of 
the  Persians.  Phidias  fashioned  out  of  this  a  colossal  image  of 
the  goddess  Nemesis,  the  deity  whose  peculiar  function  was  to 
visit  the  exuberant  prosperity  both  of  nations  and  individuals 
with  sudden  and  awful  reverses.  This  statue  was  placed  in  a 
temple  of  the  goddess  at  Rhamnus,  about  eight  miles  from 

*  The  commonplace  cahimnies  against  the  Athenians  respecting  Milti- 
ades have  been  well  answered  by  Sir  Edward  Lytton  Bulwer  in  his 
"  Rise  and  Fall  of  Athens,"  and  Bishop  Thirlwall  in  the  second  volume 
of  his  "  History  of  Greece ;  "  but  they  have  received  their  most  com- 
plete refutation  from  Mr.  Grote  in  the  fourth  volume  of  his  History, 
p.  490,  et  seq.,  and  notes.  I  quite  concur  with  him  that,  "  looking  to 
the  practice  of  the  Athenian  dicastery  in  criminal  cases,  that  fifty  talents 
was  the  minor  penalty  actually  proposed  by  the  defenders  of  Miltiades 
themselves  as  a  substitute  for  the  punishment  of  death.  In  those  penal 
cases  at  Athens  where  the  punishment  was  not  fixed  beforehand  by  the 
terms  of  the  law,  if  the  person  accused  was  found  guilty,  it  was  cus- 
tomary to  submit  to  the  jurors  subsequently  and  separately  the  ques- 
tion as  to  amount  of  punishment.  First,  the  accuser  named  the  penalty 
which  he  thought  suitable ;  next,  the  accused  person  was  called  upon 
to  name  an  amount  of  penalty  for  himself,  and  the  jurors  were  con- 
strained to  take  their  choice  between  these  two,  no  third  gradation  of 
penalty  being  admissible  for  consideration.  Of  course,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, it  was  the  interest  of  the  accused  party  to  name,  even  in 
his  own  case,  some  real  and  serious  penalty — something  which  the 
jurors  might  be  likely  to  deem  not  wholly  inadequate  to  his  crime  just 
proved ;  for,  if  he  proposed  some  penalty  only  trifling,  he  drove  them  to 
prefer  the  heavier  sentence  recommended  by  his  opponent."  The  stories 
of  Miltiades  having  been  cast  into  prison  and  died  there,  and  of  his 
having  been  saved  from  death  only  by  the  interposition  of  the  prytanis 
of  the  day,  are,  I  think,  rightly  rejected  by  Mr.  Grote  as  the  fictions  of 
after  ages.  The  silence  of  Herodotus  respecting  them  is  decisive.  It  is 
true  that  Plato,  in  the  Gorgias,  says  that  the  Athenians  passed  a  vote 
to  throw  Miltiades  into  the  Barathrum,  and  speaks  of  the  interposition 
of  the  prytanis  in  his  favor ;  but  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  Plato,  with 
all  his  transcendent  genius,  was  (as  Niebuhr  has  termed  him)  a  very  in- 
different patriot,  who  loved  to  blacken  the  character  of  his  country's 
democratical  institutions;  and  if  the  fact  was  that  the  prytanis,  at  the 
trial  of  Miltiades,  opposed  the  vote  of  capital  punishment,  and  spoke  in 
favor  of  the  mjlder  sentence,  Plato  (in  a  passage  written  to  show  the 
mi'^fortunes  that  befell  Athenian  statesmen)  would  readily  exaggerate 
this  fact  into  the  story  that  appears  in  his  text. 


3° 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Marathon.  Athens  itself  contained  numerous  memorials  of 
her  primary  great  victory.  Panenus,  the  cousin  of  Phidias, 
represented  it  in  fresco  on  the  walls  of  the  painted  porch ;  and, 
centuries  afterward,  the  figures  of  Miltiades  and  Callimachus 
at  the  head  of  the  Athenians  were  conspicuous  in  the  fresco. 
The  tutelary  deities  were  exhibited  taking  part  in  the  fray.  In 
the  background  were  seen  the  Phcenician  galleys,  and,  nearer 
to  the  spectator,  the  Athenians  and  the  Platseans  (distinguished 
by  their  leather  helmets)  were  chasing  routed  Asiatics  into  the 
marshes  and  the  sea.  The  battle  was  sculptured  also  on  the 
Temple  of  Victory  in  the  Acropolis,  and  even  now  there  may 
be  traced  on  the  freize  the  figures  of  the  Persian  combatants 
with  their  lunar  shields,  their  bows  and  quivers,  their  curved 
cimeters,  their  loose  trousers,  and  Phrygian  tiaras.* 

These  and  other  memorials  of  Marathon  were  the  produce 
of  the  meridian  age  of  Athenian  intellectual  splendor,  of  the 
age  of  Phidias  and  Pericles ;  for  it  was  not  merely  by  the  gen- 
eration whom  the  battle  liberated  from  Hippias  and  the  Medes 
that  the  transcendent  importance  of  their  victory  was  gratefully 
recognized.  Through  the  whole  epoch  of  her  prosperity, 
through  the  long  Olympiads  of  her  decay,  through  centuries 
after  her  fall,  Athens  looked  back  on  the  day  of  Marathon  as  the 
brightest  of  her  national  existence. 

By  a  natural  blending  of  patriotic  pride  with  grateful  piety, 
the  very  spirits  of  the  Athenians  who  fell  at  Marathon  were 
deified  by  their  countrymen.  The  inhabitants  of  the  district  of 
Marathon  paid  religious  rites  to  them,  and  orators  solemnly 
invoked  them  in  their  most  impassioned  adjurations  before  the 
assembled  men  of  Athens.  "  Nothing  was  omitted  that  could 
keep  alive  the  remembrance  of  a  deed  which  had  first  taught 
the  Athenian  people  to  know  its  own  strength,  by  measuring 
it  with  the  power  which  had  subdued  the  greater  part  of  the 
known  world.  The  consciousness  thus  awakened  fixed  its 
character,  its  station,  and  its  destiny ;  it  was  the  spring  of  its 
later  great  actions  and  ambitious  enterprises."! 

It  was  not  indeed  by  one  defeat,  however  signal,  that  the 
pride  of  Persia  could  be  broken,  and  her  dreams  of  universal 
empire  dispelled.  Ten  years  afterward  she  renewed  her  at- 
tempts upon  Europe  on  a  grander  scale  of  enterprise,  and  was 
repulsed  by  Greece  with  greater  and  reiterated  loss.  Larger 
*  Wordsworth's  "  Greece,"  p.  115.  t  Thirlwall. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  31 

forces  and  heavier  slaughter  than  had  been  seen  at  Marathon 
signaHzed  the  conflicts  of  Greeks  and  Persians  at  Artemisium, 
Salamis,  Platsea,  and  the  Eurymedon.  But,  mighty  and  mo- 
mentous as  these  battles  were,  they  rank  not  with  Marathon  in 
importance.  They  originated  no  new  impulse.  They  turned 
back  no  current  of  fate.  They  were  merely  confirmatory  of  the 
already  existing  bias  which  Marathon  had  created.  The  day 
of  Marathon  is  the  critical  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  two 
nations.  It  broke  forever  the  spell  of  Persian  invincibility, 
which  had  previously  paralyzed  men's  minds.  It  generated 
among  the  Greeks  the  spirit  which  beat  back  Xerxes,  and  after- 
ward led  on  Xenophon,  Agesilaus,  and  Alexander,  in  terrible 
retaliation  through  their  Asiatic  campaigns.  It  secured  for 
mankind  the  intellectual  treasures  of  Athens,  the  growth  of 
free  institutions,  the  liberal  enlightenment  of  the  Western 
world,  and  the  gradual  ascendency  for  many  ages  of  the  great 
principles  of  European  civilization. 

Explanatory  Remarks  on  Some  of  the  Circumstances  of 
THE  Battle  of  Marathon. 

Nothing  is  said  by  Herodotus  of  the  Persian  cavalry  taking 
any  part  in  the  battle,  although  he  mentions  that  Hippias 
recommended  the  Persians  to  land  at  Marathon,  because  the 
plain  was  favorable  for  cavalry  evolutions.  In  the  life  of  Mil- 
tiades  which  is  usually  cited  as  the  production  of  Cornelius 
Nepos,  but  which  I  believe  to  be  of  no  authority  whatever,  it 
is  said  that  Miltiades  protected  his  flanks  from  the  enemy's 
horse  by  an  abatis  of  felled  trees.  While  he  was  on  the  high 
ground  he  would  not  have  required  this  defense,  and  it  is  not 
likely  that  the  Persians  would  have  allowed  him  to  erect  it  on 
the  plain. 

Bishop  Thirlwall  calls  our  attention  to  a  passage  in  Suidas, 
where  the  proverb  Xwpt?  linrek  is  said  to  have  originated  from 
some  Ionian  Greeks,  who  were  serving  compulsorily  in  the 
army  of  Datis,  contriving  to  inform  ]\Iiltiades  that  the  Persian 
cavalry  had  gone  away,  whereupon  Miltiades  immediately 
joined  battle  and  gained  the  victory.  There  may  probably  be 
a  gleam  of  truth  in  this  legend.  If  Datis'  cavalry  was  numer- 
ous, as  the  abundant  pastures  of  Euboea  were  close  at  hand, 
the  Persian  general,  when  he  thought,  from  the  inaction  of 


32  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

his  enemy,  that  they  did  not  mean  to  come  down  from  the 
heights  and  give  battle,  might  naturally  send  the  larger  part 
of  his  horse  back  across  the  channel  to  the  neighborhood  of 
Eretria,  where  he  had  already  left  a  detachment,  and  where  his 
military  stores  must  have  been  deposited.  The  knowledge  of 
such  a  movment  would  of  course  confirm  Miltiades  in  his 
resolution  to  bring  on  a  speedy  engagement. 

But,  in  truth,  whatever  amount  of  cavalry  we  suppose  Datis 
to  have  had  with  him  on  the  day  of  Marathon,  their  inaction 
in  the  battle  is  intelligible,  if  we  believe  the  attack  of  the  Athe- 
nian spearmen  to  have  been  as  sudden  as  it  was  rapid.  The 
Persian  horse-soldier,  on  an  alarm  being  given,  had  to  take  the 
shackles  ofif  his  horse,  to  strap  the  saddle  on,  and  bridle  him, 
besides  equipping  himself  (see  Xenophon,  "Anabasis,"  lib.  iii., 
c.  4)  ;  and  when  each  individual  horseman  was  ready,  the  line 
had  to  be  formed  ;  and  the  time  that  it  takes  to  form  the  Orien- 
tal cavalry  in  line  for  a  charge  has,  in  all  ages,  been  observed 
by  Europeans. 

The  wet  state  of  the  marshes  at  each  end  of  the  plain,  in 
the  time  of  year  when  the  battle  was  fought,  has  been  adverted 
to  by  Mr.  Wordsworth,  and  this  would  hinder  the  Persian  gen- 
eral from  arranging  and  employing  his  horsemen  on  his  ex- 
treme wings,  while  it  also  enabled  the  Greeks,  as  they  came  for- 
ward, to  occupy  the  whole  breadth  of  the  practicable  ground 
with  an  unbroken  line  of  levelled  spears,  against  which,  if  any 
Persian  horse  advanced,  they  would  be  driven  back  in  confu- 
sion upon  their  own  foot. 

Even  numerous  and  fully  arrayed  bodies  of  cavalry  have 
been  repeatedly  broken,  both  in  ancient  and  modern  warfare, 
by  resolute  charges  of  infantry.  For  instance,  it  was  by  an 
attack  of  some  picked  cohorts  that  Caesar  routed  the  Pom- 
peian  cavalry  (which  had  previously  defeated  his  own),  and 
won  the  battle  of  Pharsalia. 

I  have  represented  the  battle  of  Marathon  as  beginning  in 
the  afternoon  and  ending  toward  evening.  If  it  had  lasted 
all  day,  Herodotus  would  have  probably  mentioned  that  fact. 
That  it  ended  toward  evening  is,  I  think,  proved  by  the  line 
from  the  "  Vespae,"  which  I  have  already  quoted,  and  to  which 
my  attention  was  called  by  Sir  Edward  Bulwer's  account  of  the 
battle.  I  think  that  the  succeeding  lines  in  Aristophanes,  also 
already  quoted,  justify  the  description  which  I  have  given  of 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  33 

the  rear  ranks  of  the  Persians  keeping  up  a  fire  of  arrows  over 
the  heads  of  their  comrades,  as  the  Normans  did  at  Hastings. 


Synopsis  of  Events  Between  the  Battle  of  Marathon, 

b.c.  490,  and  the  defeat  of  the  athenians  at 

Syracuse,  b.c.  413. 

B.C.  490  to  487.  All  Asia  filled  with  the  preparations  made 
by  King  Darius  for  a  new  expedition  against  Greece.  Themis- 
tocles  persuades  the  Athenians  to  leave  ofif  dividing  the  pro- 
ceeds of  their  silver  mines  among  themselves,  and  to  employ 
the  money  in  strengthening  their  navy. 

487.  Egypt  revolts  from  the  Persians,  and  delays  the  ex- 
pedition against  Greece. 

485.  Darius  dies,  and  Xerxes  his  son  becomes  King  of 
Persia  in  his  stead. 

484.  The  Persians  recover  Egypt. 

480.  Xerxes  invades  Greece.  Indecisive  actions  between 
the  Persian  and  Greek  fleets  at  Artemisium.  Destruction  of 
the  three  hundred  Spartans  at  Thermopylae.  The  Athenians 
abandon  Attica  and  go  on  shipboard.  Great  naval  victory  of 
the  Greeks  at  Salamis.  Xerxes  returns  to  Asia,  leaving  a 
chosen  army  under  Mardonius  to  carry  on  the  war  against 
the  Greeks. 

478.  Mardonius  and  his  army  destroyed  by  the  Greeks  at 
Platsea.  The  Greeks  land  in  Asia  Minor,  and  defeat  a  Per- 
sian force  at  Mycale.  In  this  and  the  following  years  the  Per- 
sians lose  all  their  conquests  in  Europe,  and  many  on  the  coast 
of  Asia. 

477.  Many  of  the  Greek  maritime  states  take  Athens  as 
their  leader  instead  of  Sparta. 

466.  Victories  of  Cimon  over  the  Persians  at  the  Eurym- 
edon. 

464.  Revolt  of  the  Helots  against  Sparta.  Third  Messenian 
war. 

460.  Egypt  again  revolts  against  Persia.  The  Athenians 
send  a  powerful  armament  to  aid  the  Egyptians,  which,  after 
gaining  some  successes,  is  destroyed;  and  Egypt  submits. 
This  war  lasted  six  years. 

457.  Wars  in  Greece  between  the  Athenian  and  several 
Peloponnesian  states.  Immense  exertions  of  Athens  at  this 
3 


34  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

time.  "  There  is  an  original  inscription  still  preserved  in  the 
Louvre  which  attests  the  energies  of  Athens  at  this  crisis,  when 
Athens,  like  England  in  modern  wars,  at  once  sought  con- 
quests abroad  and  repelled  enemies  at  home.  At  the  period 
we  now  advert  to  (b.  c.  457),  an  Athenian  armament  of  two 
hundred  galleys  was  engaged  in  a  bold  though  unsuccessful 
expedition  against  Egypt.  The  Athenian  crews  had  landed, 
had  won  a  battle  ;  they  had  then  re-embarked  and  sailed  up  the 
Nile,  and  were  busily  besieging  the  Persian  garrison  in  Mem- 
phis. As  the  complement  of  a  trireme  galley  was  at  least  two 
hundred  men,  we  can  not  estimate  the  forces  then  employed 
by  Athens  against  Egypt  at  less  than  forty  thousand  men.  At 
the  same  time,  she  kept  squadrons  on  the  coasts  of  Phoenicia 
and  Cyprus,  and  yet  maintained  a  home  fleet  that  enabled  her 
to  defeat  her  Peloponnesian  enemies  at  Cecryphalae  and  yEgina, 
capturing  in  the  last  engagement  seventy  galleys.  This  last 
fact  may  give  us  some  idea  of  the  strength  of  the  Athenian 
home  fleet  that  gained  the  victory,  and  by  adopting  the  same 
ratio  of  multiplying  whatever  number  of  galleys  we  suppose 
to  have  been  employed  by  two  hundred,  so  as  to  gain  the  ag- 
gregate number  of  the  crews,  we  may  form  some  estimate  of 
the  forces  which  this  little  Greek  state  then  kept  on  foot.  Be- 
tween sixty  and  seventy  thousand  men  must  have  served  in  her 
fleets  during  that  year.  Her  tenacity  of  purpose  was  equal  to 
her  boldness  of  enterprise.  Sooner  than  yield  or  withdraw 
from  any  of  their  expeditions,  the  Athenians  at  this  very  time, 
when  Corinth  sent  an  army  to  attack  their  garrison  at  Megara, 
did  not  recall  a  single  crew  or  a  single  soldier  from  ^gina  or 
from  abroad ;  but  the  lads  and  old  men,  who  had  been  left  to 
guard  the  city,  fought  and  won  a  battle  against  these  new  as- 
sailants. The  inscription  which  we  have  referred  to  is  graven 
on  a  votive  tablet  to  the  memory  of  the  dead,  erected  in  that 
year  by  the  Erechthean  tribe,  one  of  the  ten  into  which  the 
Athenians  were  divided.  It  shows,  as  Thirlwall  has  remarked, 
'  that  the  Athenians  were  conscious  of  the  greatness  of  their 
own  effort ; '  and  in  it  this  little  civic  community  of  the  ancient 
world  still  '  records  to  us  with  emphatic  simplicity,  that  its 
slain  fell  in  Cyprus,  in  Egypt,  in  Phoenicia,  at  Haliae,  in  ^gina, 
and  in  Megara,  in  the  same  year.'  "* 

445.  A  thirty  years'  truce  concluded  between  Athens  and 

Lacedaemon. 

*  Paeans  of  the  Athenian  Navy. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MARATHON  35 

440.  The  Samians  endeavor  to  throw  off  the  supremacy  of 
Athens.  Sanios  completely  reduced  to  subjection.  Pericles 
is  now  sole  director  of  the  Athenian  councils. 

431.  Commencement  of  the  great  Peloponnesian  war,  in 
which  Sparta,  at  the  head  of  nearly  all  the  Peloponnesian 
states,  and  aided  by  the  Boeotians  and  some  of  the  other  Greeks 
beyond  the  Isthmus,  endeavors  to  reduce  the  power  of  Athens, 
and  to  restore  independence  to  the  Greek  maritime  states  who 
were  the  subject  allies  of  Athens.  At  the  commencement  of 
the  war  the  Peloponnesian  armies  repeatedly  invade  and  ravage 
Attica,  but  Athens  herself  is  impregnable,  and  her  fleets  secure 
her  the  dominion  of  the  sea. 

430.  Athens  visited  by  a  pestilence,  which  sweeps  off  large 
numbers  of  her  population. 

425.  The  Athenians  gain  great  advantages  over  the  Spartans 
at  Sphacteria,  and  by  occupying  Cythera ;  but  they  suffer  a  se- 
vere defeat  in  Boeotia,  and  the  Spartan  general,  Brasidas,  leads 
an  expedition  to  the  Thracian  coasts,  and  conquers  many  of 
the  most  valuable  Athenian  possessions  in  those  regions. 

421.  Nominal  truce  for  thirty  years  between  Athens  and 
Sparta,  but  hostilities  continue  on  the  Thracian  coast  and  in 
other  quarters. 

415.  The  Athenians  send  an  expedition  to  conquer  Sicily. 


CHAPTER   II. 

DEFEAT  OF  THE  ATHENIANS  AT  SYRACUSE, 
B.  C.  413- 

"  The  Romans  knew  not,  and  could  not  know,  how  deeply  the  great- 
ness of  their  own  posterity,  and  the  fate  of  the  whole  Western  world, 
were  involved  in  the  destruction  of  the  fleet  of  Athens  in  the  harbor  of 
Syracuse.  Had  that  great  expedition  proved  victorious,  the  energies  of 
Greece  during  the  next  eventful  century  would  have  found  their  field 
in  the  West  no  less  than  in  the  East ;  Greece,  and  not  Rome,  might 
have  conquered  Carthage;  Greek  instead  of  Latin  might  have  been  at 
this  day  the  principal  element  of  the  language  of  Spain,  of  France,  and 
of  Italy;  and  the  laws  of  Athens,  rather  than  of  Rome,  might  be  the 
foundation  of  the  law  of  the  civilized  world." — Arnold. 

FEW  cities  have  undergone  more  memorable  sieges  dur- 
ing ancient  and  mediaeval  times  than  has  the  city  of 
Syracuse.  Athenian,  Carthaginian,  Roman,  Vandal, 
Byzantine,  Saracen,  and  Norman,  have  in  turns  beleaguered 
her  walls ;  and  the  resistance  which  she  successfully  opposed 
to  some  of  her  early  assailants  was  of  the  deepest  importance, 
not  only  to  the  fortunes  of  the  generations  then  in  being,  but  to 
all  the  subsequent  current  of  human  events.  To  adopt  the  elo- 
quent expressions  of  Arnold  respecting  the  check  which  she 
gave  to  the  Carthaginian  arms,  "  Syracuse  was  a  break-water 
which  God's  providence  raised  up  to  protect  the  yet  imma- 
ture strength  of  Rome."  And  her  triumphant  repulse  of  the 
great  Athenian  expedition  against  her  was  of  even  more  wide- 
spread and  enduring  importance.  It  forms  a  decisive  epoch 
in  the  strife  for  universal  empire,  in  which  all  the  great  states 
of  antiquity  successively  engaged  and  failed. 

The  present  city  of  Syracuse  is  a  place  of  little  or  no  military 
strength,  as  the  fire  of  artillery  from  the  neighboring  heights 
would  almost  completely  command  it.  But  in  ancient  warfare, 
its  position,  and  the  care  bestowed  on  its  walls,  rendered  it 
formidably  strong  against  the  means  of  offence  which  then  were 
employed  by  besieging  armies. 

36 


DEFEAT    OF   THE    ATHENIANS  37 

The  ancient  city,  in  its  most  prosperous  times,  was  chiefly 
built  on  the  knob  of  land  which  projects  into  the  sea  on  the 
eastern  coast  of  Sicily,  between  two  bays ;  one  of  which,  to  the 
north,  was  called  the  Bay  of  Thapsus,  while  the  southern  one 
formed  the  great  harbor  of  the  city  of  Syracuse  itself.  A  small 
island,  or  peninsula  (for  such  it  soon  was  rendered),  lies  at  the 
southeastern  extremity  of  this  knob  of  land,  stretching  almost 
entirely  across  the  mouth  of  the  great  harbor,  and  rendering 
it  nearly  land-locked.  This  island  comprised  the  original  set- 
tlement of  the  first  Greek  colonists  from  Corinth,  who  founded 
Syracuse  two  thousand  five  hundred  years  ago ;  and  the  mod- 
ern city  has  shrunk  again  into  these  primary  limits.  But,  in 
the  fifth  century  before  our  era,  the  growing  wealth  and  popu- 
lation of  the  Syracusans  had  led  them  to  occupy  and  include 
within  their  city  walls  portion  after  portion  of  the  mainland 
lying  next  to  the  little  isle,  so  that  at  the  time  of  the  Athenian 
expedition  the  seaward  part  of  the  land  between  the  two  bays 
already  spoken  of  was  built  over,  and  fortified  from  bay  to  bay, 
and  constituted  the  larger  part  of  Syracuse. 

The  landward  wall,  therefore,  of  this  district  of  the  city  trav- 
ersed this  knob  of  land,  which  continues  to  slope  upward  from 
the  sea,  and  which,  to  the  west  of  the  old  fortifications  (that  is, 
towards  the  interior  of  Sicily),  rises  rapidly  for  a  mile  or  two, 
but  diminishes  in  width,  and  finally  terminates  in  a  long  nar- 
row ridge,  between  which  and  Mount  Hybla  a  succession  of 
chasms  and  uneven  low  ground  extends.  On  each  flank  of 
this  ridge  the  descent  is  steep  and  precipitous  from  its  summits 
to  the  strips  of  level  land  that  lie  immediately  below  it,  both 
to  the  southwest  and  northwest. 

The  usual  mode  of  assailing  fortified  towns  in  the  time  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war  was  to  build  a  double  wall  round  them,  suf- 
ficiently strong  to  check  any  sally  of  the  garrison  from  within, 
or  any  attack  of  a  relieving  force  from  without.  The  interval 
within  the  two  walls  of  the  circumvallation  was  roofed  over, 
and  formed  barracks,  in  which  the  besiegers  posted  themselves, 
and  awaited  the  effects  of  want  or  treachery  among  the  be- 
sieged in  producing  a  surrender ;  and,  in  every  Greek  city  of 
those  days,  as  in  every  Italian  repubHc  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the 
range  of  domestic  sedition  between  aristocrats  and  democrats 
ran  high.  Rancorous  refugees  swarmed  in  the  camp  of  every 
invading  enemy ;    and  every  blockaded  city  was  sure  to  con- 


38  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

tain  within  its  walls  a  body  of  intriguing  malcontents,  who 
were  eager  to  purchase  a  party  triumph  at  the  expense  of  a 
national  disaster.  Famine  and  faction  were  the  allies  on  whom 
besiegers  relied.  The  generals  of  that  time  trusted  to  the  opera- 
tion of  these  sure  confederates  as  soon  as  they  could  establish 
a  complete  blockade.  They  rarely  ventured  on  the  attempt  to 
storm  any  fortified  post,  for  the  mihtary  engines  of  antiquity 
were  feeble  in  breaching  masonry  before  the  improvements 
which  the  first  Dionysius  effected  in  the  mechanics  of  destruc- 
tion; and  the  lives  of  spearmen  the  boldest  and  most  high- 
trained  would,  of  course,  have  been  idly  spent  in  charges 
against  unshattered  walls. 

A  city  built  close  to  the  sea,  like  Syracuse,  was  impregnable, 
save  by  the  combined  operations  of  a  superior  hostile  fieet  and 
a  superior  hostile  army ;  and  Syracuse,  from  her  size,  her  popu- 
lation, and  her  military  and  naval  resources,  not  unnaturally 
thought  herself  secure  from  finding  in  another  Greek  city  a 
foe  capable  of  sending  a  suf^cient  armament  to  menace  her 
with  capture  and  subjection.  But  in  the  spring  of  414  b.  c, 
the  Athenian  navy  was  mistress  of  her  harbor  and  the  adjacent 
seas ;  an  Athenian  army  had  defeated  her  troops,  and  cooped 
them  within  the  town ;  and  from  bay  to  bay  a  blockading  wall 
was  being  rapidly  carried  across  the  strips  of  level  ground  and 
the  high  ridge  outside  the  city  (then  termed  Epipolae),  which, 
if  completed,  would  have  cut  the  Syracusans  off  from  all  succor 
from  the  interior  of  Sicily,  and  have  left  them  at  the  mercy  of 
the  Athenian  generals.  The  besiegers'  works  were,  indeed, 
unfinished ;  but  every  day  the  unfortified  interval  in  their  lines 
grew  narrower,  and  with  it  diminished  all  apparent  hope  of 
safety  for  the  beleaguered  town. 

Athens  was  now  staking  the  flower  of  her  forces,  and  the  ac- 
cumulated fruits  of  seventy  years  of  glory,  on  one  bold  throw 
for  the  dominion  of  the  Western  world.  As  Napoleon  from 
Mount  Coeur  de  Lion  pointed  to  St.  Jean  dAcre,  and  told  his 
staff  that  the  capture  of  that  town  would  decide  his  destiny  and 
would  change  the  face  of  the  world,  so  the  Athenian  officers, 
from  the  heights  of  Epipolae,  must  have  looked  on  Syracuse, 
and  felt  that  with  its  fall  all  the  known  powers  of  the  earth 
would  fall  beneath  them.  They  must  have  felt  also  that  Athens, 
if  repulsed  there,  must  pause  forever  from  her  career  of  con- 
quest, and  sink  from  an  imperial  republic  into  a  ruined  and  sub- 
servient community. 


DEFEAT   OF   THE   ATHENIANS  39 

At  Marathon,  the  first  in  date  of  the  great  battles  of  the  world, 
we  beheld  Athens  struggling  for  self-preservation  against  the 
invading  armies  of  the  East.  At  Syracuse  she  appears  as  the 
ambitious  and  oppressive  invader  of  others.  In  her,  as  in  other 
republics  of  old  and  of  modern  times,  the  same  energy  that  had 
inspired  the  most  heroic  efforts  in  defence  of  the  national  in- 
dependence, soon  learned  to  employ  itself  in  daring  and  un- 
scrupulous schemes  of  self-aggrandizement  at  the  expense  of 
neighboring  nations.  In  the  interval  between  the  Persian 
and  the  Peloponnesian  wars  she  had  rapidly  grown  into  a  con- 
quering and  dominant  state,  the  chief  of  a  thousand  tributary 
cities,  and  the  mistress  of  the  largest  and  best-manned  navy 
that  the  Mediterranean  had  yet  beheld.  The  occupations  of 
her  territory  by  Xerxes  and  Mardonius,  in  the  second  Persian 
war,  had  forced  her  whole  population  to  become  mariners ; 
and  the  glorious  results  of  that  struggle  confirmed  them  in 
their  zeal  for  their  country's  service  at  sea.  The  voluntary 
suffrage  of  the  Greek  cities  of  the  coasts  and  islands  of  the 
^gsean  first  placed  Athens  at  the  head  of  the  confederation 
formed  for  the  further  prosecution  of  the  war  against  Persia. 
But  this  titular  ascendency  was  soon  converted  by  her  into 
practical  and  arbitrary  dominion.  She  protected  them  from 
piracy  and  the  Persian  power,  which  soon  fell  into  decrepitude 
and  decay,  but  she  exacted  in  return  implicit  obedience  to  her 
self.  She  claimed  and  enforced  a  prerogative  of  taxing  them 
at  her  discretion,  and  proudly  refused  to  be  accountable  for  her 
mode  of  expending  their  supplies.  Remonstrance  against  her 
assessments  was  treated  as  factious  disloyalty,  and  refusal  to 
pay  was  promptly  punished  as  revolt.  Permitting  and  en- 
couraging her  subject  allies  to  furnish  all  their  contingents  in 
money,  instead  of  part  consisting  of  ships  and  men,  the  sover- 
eign republic  gained  the  double  object  of  training  her  own 
citizens  by  constant  and  well-paid  service  in  her  fleets,  and 
of  seeing  her  confederates  lose  their  skill  and  discipline  by 
inaction,  and  become  more  and  more  passive  and  powerless 
under  her  yoke.  Their  towns  were  generally  dismantled,  while 
the  imperial  city  herself  was  fortified  with  the  greatest  care  and 
sumptuousness ;  the  accumulated  revenues  from  her  tribu- 
taries serving  to  strengthen  and  adorn  to  the  utmost  her 
havens,  her  docks,  her  arsenals,  her  theatres,  and  her  shrines, 
and  to  array  her  in  that  plenitude  of  architectural  magnificence. 


40  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

the  ruins  of  which  still  attest  the  intellectual  grandeur  of  the  age 
and  people  which  produced  a  Pericles  to  plan  and  a  Phidias  to 
execute. 

C?  All  republics  that  acquire  supremacy  over  other  nations  rule 

them  selfishly  and  oppressively.  There  is  no  exception  to  this 
in  either  ancient  or  modern  times.  Carthage,  Rome,  Venice, 
Genoa,  Florence,  Pisa,  Holland,  and  republican  France,  all 
tyrannized  over  every  province  and  subject  state  where  they 
gained  authority.  But  none  of  them  openly  avowed  their  sys- 
tem of  doing  so  upon  principle  with  the  candor  which  the  Athe- 
nian republicans  displayed  when  any  remonstrance  was  made 
against  the  severe  exactions  which  they  imposed  upon  their 

^^  vassal  allies.  They  avowed  that  their  empire  was  a  tyranny, 
and  frankly  stated  that  they  solely  trusted  to  force  and  terror 
to  uphold  it.  They  appealed  to  what  they  called  "  the  eternal 
law  of  nature,  that  the  weak  should  be  coerced  by  the  strong."* 
Sometimes  they  stated,  and  not  without  some  truth,  that  the 
unjust  hatred  of  Sparta  against  themselves  forced  them  to  be 
unjust  to  others  in  self-defence.  To  be  safe,'  they  must  be 
powerful ;  and  to  be  powerful,  they  must  plunder  and  coerce 
their  neighbors.  They  never  dreamed  of  communicating  any 
franchise,  or  share  in  office,  to  their  dependents,  but  jealously 
monopolized  every  post  of  command,  and  all  political  and  ju- 
dicial power ;  exposing  themselves  to  every  risk  with  unflinch- 
ing gallantry  ;  embarking  readily  in  every  ambitious  scheme ; 
and  never  suffering  difficulty  or  disaster  to  shake  their  tenacity 
of  purpose:  in  the  hope  of  acquiring  unbounded  empire  for 
their  country,  and  the  means  of  maintaining  each  of  the  thirty 
thousand  citizens  who  made  up  the  sovereign  republic,  in  ex- 
clusive devotion  to  military  occupations,  and  to  those  brilliant 
sciences  and  arts  in  which  Athens  already  had  reached  the 
meridian  of  intellectual  splendor. 

Her  great  political  dramatist  speaks  of  the  Athenian  em- 
pire as  comprehending  a  thousand  states.  The  language  of 
the  stage  must  not  be  taken  too  literally ;  but  the  number  of 
the  dependencies  of  Athens,  at  the  time  when  the  Peloponne- 
sian  confederacy  attacked  her,  was  undoubtedly  very  great. 
With  a  few  trifling  exceptions,  all  the  islands  of  the  ^gsean,  and 
all  the  Greek  cities,  which  in  that  age  fringed  the  coasts  of  Asia 
Minor,  the  Hellespont,  and  Thrace,  paid  tribute  to  Athens,  and 

*  'Ael  Ko^ecTTaJToj  rhi  tjcrffco  ii7rj»  SvvaTwrfpoi  Kareipyfa^ai. — ThUC,  i.,   yy. 


DEFEAT   OF   THE   ATHENIANS  41 

implicity  obeyed  her  orders.  The  /Egasan  Sea  was  an  Attic 
lake.  Westward  of  Greece,  her  influence,  though  strong,  was 
not  equally  predominant.  She  had  colonies  and  aUies  among 
the  wealthy  and  populous  Greek  settlements  in  Sicily  and  South 
Italy,  but  she  had  no  organized  system  of  confederates  in  those 
regions ;  and  her  galleys  brought  her  no  tribute  from  the  West- 
ern seas.  The  extension  of  her  empire  over  Sicily  was  the 
favorite  project  of  her  ambitious  orators  and  generals.  While 
her  great  statesman,  Pericles,  lived,  his  commanding  genius 
kept  his  countrymen  under  control,  and  forbade  them  to  risk 
the  fortunes  of  Athens  in  distant  enterprises,  while  they  had 
unsubdued  and  powerful  enemies  at  their  own  doors.  He 
taught  Athens  this  maxim ;  but  he  also  taught  her  to  know 
and  to  use  her  own  strength,  and  when  Pericles  had  departed, 
the  bold  spirit  which  he  had  fostered  overleaped  the  salutary 
limits  which  he  had  prescribed.  When  her  bitter  enemies,  the 
Corinthians,  succeeded,  in  431  B.C.,  in  inducing  Sparta  to  at- 
tack her,  and  a  confederacy  was  formed  of  five-sixths  of  the  con- 
tinental Greeks,  all  animated  by  anxious  jealousy  and  bitter 
hatred  of  Athens ;  when  armies  far  superior  in  numbers  and 
equipment  to  those  which  had  marched  against  the  Persians 
were  poured  into  the  Athenian  territory,  and  laid  it  waste  to 
the  city  walls,  the  general  opinion  was  that  Athens  would  be 
reduced,  in  two  or  three  years  at  the  farthest,  to  submit  to  the 
requisitions  of  her  invaders.  But  her  strong  fortifications,  by 
which  she  was  girt  and  linked  to  her  principal  haven,  gave  her, 
in  those  ages,  almost  all  the  advantages  of  an  insular  position. 
Pericles  had  made  her  trust  to  her  empire  of  the  seas.  Every 
Athenian  in  those  days  was  a  practised  seaman.  A  state,  in- 
deed, whose  members,  of  an  age  fit  for  service,  at  no  time  ex- 
ceeded thirty  thousand,  and  whose  territorial  extent  did  not 
equal  half  Sussex,  could  only  have  acquired  such  a  naval  do- 
minion as  Athens  once  held,  by  devoting  and  zealously  training 
all  its  sons  to  service  in  its  fleets.  In  order  to  man  the  numer- 
ous galleys  which  she  sent  out,  she  necessarily  employed  large 
numbers  of  hired  mariners  and  slaves  at  the  oar ;  but  the  staple 
of  her  crews  was  Athenian,  and  all  posts  of  command  were  held 
by  native  citizens.  It  was  by  reminding  them  of  this,  of  their 
long  practice  in  seamanship,  and  the  certain  superiority  which 
their  discipline  gave  them  over  the  enemy's  marine,  that  their 
great  minister  mainly  encouraged  them  to  resist  the  combined 


42  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

power  of  Lacedaemon  and  her  allies.  He  taught  them  that 
Athens  might  thus  reap  the  fruit  of  her  zealous  devotion  to 
maritime  affairs  ever  since  the  invasion  of  the  Medes ;  "  she 
had  not,  indeed,  perfected  herself;  but  the  revi^ard  of  her  su- 
perior training  was  the  rule  of  the  sea — a  mighty  dominion,  for 
it  gave  her  the  rule  of  much  fair  land  beyond  its  waves,  safe 
from  the  idle  ravages  with  which  the  Lacedaemonians  might 
harass  Attica,  but  never  could  subdue  Athens."* 

Athens  accepted  the  war  with  which  her  enemies  threatened 
her  rather  than  descend  from  her  pride  of  place ;  and  though 
the  awful  visitation  of  the  plague  came  upon  her,  and  swept 
away  more  of  her  citizens  than  the  Dorian  spear  laid  low,  she 
held  her  own  gallantly  against  her  enemies.  If  the  Peloponne- 
sian  armies  in  irresistible  strength  wasted  every  spring  her 
corn-lands,  her  vineyards  and  her  olive  groves  with  fire  and 
sword,  she  retaliated  on  their  coasts  with  her  fleets ;  which,  if 
resisted,  were  only  resisted  to  display  the  pre-eminent  skill  and 
bravery  of  her  seamen.  Some  of  her  subject  allies  revolted, 
but  the  revolts  were  in  general  sternly  and  promptly  quelled. 
The  genius  of  one  enemy  had  indeed  inflicted  blows  on  her 
power  in  Thrace  which  she  was  unable  to  remedy ;  but  he  fell 
in  battle  in  the  tenth  year  of  the  war,  and  with  the  loss  of 
Brasidas  the  Lacedaemonians  seemed  to  have  lost  all  energy 
and  judgment.  Both  sides  at  length  grew  weary  of  the  war, 
and  in  421  a  truce  for  fifty  years  was  concluded,  which,  though 
ill  kept,  and  though  many  of  the  confederates  of  Sparta  refused 
to  recognize  it,  and  hostilities  still  continued  in  many  parts  of 
Greece,  protected  the  Athenian  territory  from  the  ravages  of 
enemies,  and  enabled  Athens  to  accumulate  large  sums  out  of 
the  proceeds  of  her  annual  revenues.  So  also,  as  a  few  years 
passed  by,  the  havoc  which  the  pestilence  and  the  sword  had 
made  in  her  population  was  repaired;  and  in  415  B.C.  Athens 
was  full  of  bold  and  restless  spirits,  who  longed  for  some  field 
of  distant  enterprise  wherein  they  might  signalize  themselves 
and  aggrandize  the  state,  and  who  looked  on  the  alarm  of  Spar- 
tan hostility  as  a  mere  old  woman's  tale.  When  Sparta  had 
wasted  their  territory  she  had  done  her  worst ;  and  the  fact  of 
its  always  being  in  her  power  to  do  so  seemed  a  strong  reason 
for  seeking  to  increase  the  trans-marine  dominion  of  Athens. 

The  West  was  now  the  quarter  toward  which  the  thoughts 
*  Tliuc,  lib.  i.,  sec.  144. 


DEFEAT    OF   THE   ATHENIANS  43 

of  every  aspiring  Athenian  were  directed.  From  the  very  be- 
ginning of  the  war  Athens  had  kept  up  an  interest  in  Sicily, 
and  her  squadron  had,  from  time  to  time,  appeared  on  its  coasts 
and  taken  part  in  the  dissensions  in  which  the  SiciHan  Greeks 
were  universally  engaged  one  against  each  other.  There  were 
plausible  grounds  for  a  direct  quarrel,  and  an  open  attack  by 
the  Athenians  upon  Syracuse. 

With  the  capture  of  Syracuse,  all  Sicily,  it  was  hoped,  would 
be  secured.  Carthage  and  Italy  were  next  to  be  attacked. 
With  large  levies  of  Iberian  mercenaries  she  then  meant  to 
overwhelm  her  Peloponnesian  enemies.  The  Persian  mon- 
archy lay  in  hopeless  imbecility,  inviting  Greek  invasion ;  nor 
did  the  known  world  contain  the  power  that  seemed  capable 
of  checking  the  growing  might  of  Athens,  if  Syracuse  once 
could  be  hers. 

The  national  historian  of  Rome  has  left  us  an  episode  of  his 
great  work,  a  disquisition  on  the  probable  effects  that  would 
have  followed  if  Alexander  the  Great  had  invaded  Italy.  Pos- 
terity has  generally  regarded  that  disquisition  as  proving  Livy's 
patriotism  more  strongly  than  his  impartiality  or  acuteness. 
Yet  right  or  wrong,  the  speculations  of  the  Roman  writer  were 
directed  to  the  consideration  of  a  very  remote  possibility.  To 
whatever  age  Alexander's  life  might  have  been  prolonged,  the 
East  would  have  furnished  full  occupation  for  his  martial  am- 
bition, as  well  as  for  those  schemes  of  commercial  grandeur 
and  imperial  amalgamation  of  nations  in  which  the  truly  great 
qualities  of  his  mind  loved  to  display  themselves.  With  his 
death  the  dismemberment  of  his  empire  among  his  generals 
was  certain,  even  as  the  dismemberment  of  Napoleon's  empire 
among  his  marshals  would  certainly  have  ensued  if  he  had  been 
cut  off  in  the  zenith  of  his  power.  Rome,  also,  was  far  weaker 
when  the  Athenians  were  in  Sicily  than  she  was  a  century  after- 
ward in  Alexander's  time.  There  can  be  little  doubt  but  that 
Rome  would  have  been  blotted  out  from  the  independent 
powers  of  the  West,  had  she  been  attacked  at  the  end  of  the  fifth 
century  b.c.  by  an  Athenian  army,  largely  aided  by  Spanish 
mercenaries,  and  flushed  with  triumphs  over  Sicily  and  Africa, 
instead  of  the  collision  between  her  and  Greece  having  been 
deferred  until  the  latter  had  sunk  into  decrepitude,  and  the 
Roman  Mars  had  grown  into  full  vigor. 

The  armament  which  the  Athenians  equipped  against  Syra- 


44  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

cuse  was  in  every  way  worthy  of  the  state  which  formed  such 
projects  of  universal  empire,  and  it  has  been  truly  termed  "  the 
noblest  that  ever  yet  had  been  sent  forth  by  a  free  and  civilized 
commonwealth."*  The  fleet  consisted  of  one  hundred  and 
thirty-four  war-galleys,  with  a  multitude  of  store-ships.  A 
powerful  force  of  the  best  heavy-armed  infantry  that  Athens 
and  her  allies  could  furnish  was  sent  on  board  it,  together  with 
a  smaller  number  of  slingers  and  bowmen.  The  quality  of  the 
forces  was  even  more  remarkable  than  the  number.  The  zeal 
of  individuals  vied  with  that  of  the  republic  in  giving  every 
galley  the  best  possible  crew,  and  every  troop  the  most  perfect 
accoutrements.  And  with  private  as  well  as  public  wealth 
eagerly  lavished  on  all  that  could  give  splendor  as  well  as  effi- 
ciency to  the  expedition,  the  fated  fleet  began  its  voyage  for 
the  Sicilian  shores  in  the  summer  of  415. 

The  Syracusans  themselves,  at  the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian 
war,  were  a  bold  and  turbulent  democracy,  tyrannizing  over 
the  weaker  Greek  cities  in  Sicily,  and  trying  to  gain  in  that 
island  the  same  arbitrary  supremacy  which  Athens  maintained 
along  the  eastern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean.  In  numbers  and 
in  spirit  they  were  fully  equal  to  the  Athenians,  but  far  inferior 
to  them  in  military  and  naval  discipline.  When  the  probabil- 
ity of  an  Athenian  invasion  was  first  publicly  discussed  at  Syra- 
cuse, and  efforts  were  made  by  some  of  the  wiser  citizens  to 
improve  the  state  of  the  national  defences,  and  prepare  for  the 
impending  danger,  the  rumors  of  coming  war  and  the  proposal 
for  preparation  were  received  by  the  mass  of  the  Syracusans 
with  scornful  incredulity.  The  speech  of  one  of  their  popular 
orators  is  preserved  to  us  in  Thucydides,f  and  many  of  its 
topics  might,  by  a  slight  alteration  of  names  and  details,  serve 
admirably  for  the  party  among  ourselves  at  present  ;I  which  op- 
poses the  augmentation  of  our  forces,  and  derides  the  idea  of 
our  being  in  any  peril  from  the  sudden  attack  of  a  French  ex- 
pedition. The  Syracusan  orator  told  his  countrymen  to  dis- 
miss with  scorn  the  visionary  terrors  which  a  set  of  designing 
men  among  themselves  strove  to  excite,  in  order  to  get  power 
and  influence  thrown  into  their  own  hands.  He  told  them  that 
Athens  knew  her  own  interest  too  well  to  think  of  wantonly 

*  Arnold's  "  History  of  Rome." 

t  Lib.  vi.,  sec.  36,  cf  seq.,  Arnold's  edition.     I  have  almost  literally 
transcribed  some  of  the  marginal  epitomes  of  the  original  speech. 
?  1851. 


DEFEAT    OF   THE   ATHENIANS  45 

provoking  their  hostility :  "Even  if  the  enemies  were  to  come," 
said  he,  "  so  distant  from  their  resources,  and  opposed  to  such 
a  pozver  as  ours,  their  destruction  would  he  easy  and  inevitable. 
Their  ships  will  have  enough  to  do  to  get  to  our  island  at  all,  and 
to  carry  such  stores  of  all  sorts  as  will  be  needed.  They  cannot 
therefore  carry,  besides,  an  army  large  enough  to  cope  with  such 
a  population  as  ours.  They  will  have  no  fortified  place  from 
which  to  commence  their  operations,  but  must  rest  them  on  no 
better  base  than  a  set  of  wretched  tents,  and  such  means  as  the 
necessities  of  the  moment  will  allozv  them.  But,  in  truth,  I  do 
not  believe  that  they  would  even  be  able  to  effect  a  disembarka- 
tion. Let  us,  therefore,  set  at  naught  these  reports  as  altogether 
of  home  manufacture ;  and  be  sure  that  if  any  enemy  does  come, 
the  state  zvill  know  how  to  defend  itself  in  a  manner  worthy  of 
the  national  honor." 

Such  assertions  pleased  the  Syracusan  assembly,  and  their 
counterparts  find  favor  now  among  some  portion  of  the  Eng- 
lish public.  But  the  invaders  of  Syracuse  came ;  made  good 
their  landing  in  Sicily ;  and,  if  they  had  promptly  attacked  the 
city  itself,  instead  of  wasting  nearly  a  year  in  desultory  opera- 
tions in  other  parts  of  Sicily,  the  Syracusans  must  have  paid 
the  penalty  of  their  self-sufficient  carelessness  in  submission  to 
the  Athenian  yoke.  But,  of  the  three  generals  who  led  the 
Athenian  expedition,  two  only  were  men  of  ability,  and  one 
was  most  weak  and  incompetent.  Fortunately  for  Syracuse, 
Alcibiades,  the  most  skilful  of  the  three,  was  soon  deposed  from 
his  command  by  a  fractious  and  fanatic  vote  of  his  fellow  coun- 
trymen, and  the  other  competent  one,  Lamachus,  fell  early  in  a 
skirmish  ;  while,  more  fortunately  still  for  her,  the  feeble  and 
vacillating  Nicias  remained  unrecalled  and  unhurt,  to  assume 
the  undivided  leadership  of  the  Athenian  army  and  fleet,  and 
to  mar,  by  alternate  over-caution  and  over-carelessness,  every 
chance  of  success  which  the  early  part  of  the  operations  offered. 
Still,  even  under  him,  the  Athenians  nearly  won  the  town. 
They  defeated  the  raw  levies  of  the  Syracusans,  cooped  them 
within  the  walls,  and,  as  before  mentioned,  almost  effected  a 
continuous  fortification  from  bay  to  bay  over  Epipolse,  the 
completion  of  which  would  certainly  have  been  followed  by  a 
capitulation. 

Alcibiades,  the  most  complete  example  of  genius  without 
principle  that  history  produces,  the  Bolingbroke  of  antiquity, 


46  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

but  with  high  miHtary  talents  superadded  to  diplomatic  and 
oratorical  powers,  on  being  summoned  home  from  his  com- 
mand in  Sicily  to  take  his  trial  before  the  Athenian  tribunal, 
had  escaped  to  Sparta,  and  had  exerted  himself  there  with  all 
the  selfish  rancor  of  a  renegade  to  renew  the  war  with  Athens, 
and  to  send  instant  assistance  to  Syracuse. 

When  we  read  his  words  in  the  pages  of  Thucydides  (who 
was  himself  an  exile  from  Athens  at  this  period,  and  may 
probably  have  been  at  Sparta,  and  heard  Alcibiades  speak), 
we  are  at  a  loss  whether  most  to  admire  or  abhor  his  subtile 
counsels.  After  an  artful  exordium,  in  which  he  tried  to  disarm 
the  suspicions  which  he  felt  must  be  entertaf.ned  of  him,  and  to 
point  out  to  the  Spartans  how  completely  his  interests  and 
theirs  were  identified,  through  hatred  of  the  Athenian  democ- 
racy, he  thus  proceeded : 

"  Hear  me,  at  any  rate,  on  the  matters  which  require  your 
grave  attention,  and  which  I,  from  the  personal  knowledge  that 
I  have  of  them,  can  and  ought  to  bring  before  you.  We  Athe- 
nians sailed  to  Sicily  with  the  design  of  subduing,  first  the 
Greek  cities  there,  and  next  those  in  Italy.  Then  we  intended 
to  make  an  attempt  on  the  dominions  of  Carthage,  and  on 
Carthage  itself.*  If  all  these  projects  succeeded  (nor  did  we 
limit  ourselves  to  them  in  these  quarters),  we  intended  to  in- 
crease our  fleet  with  the  inexhaustible  supplies  of  ship  timber 
which  Italy  affords,  to  put  in  requisition  the  whole  militarj' 
force  of  the  conquered  Greek  states,  and  also  to  hire  large 
armies  of  the  barbarians,  of  the  Iberians, f  and  others  in  those 
regions,  who  are  allowed  to  make  the  best  possible  soldiers. 
Then,  when  we  had  done  all  this,  we  intended  to  assail  Pelopon- 
nesus with  our  collected  force.  Our  fleets  would  blockade 
you  by  sea,  and  desolate  your  coasts,  our  armies  would  be 
landed  at  different  points  and  assail  your  cities.    Some  of  these 

*  Arnold,  in  his  notes  on  this  passage,  well  reminds  the  reader  that 
Agathocles,  with  a  Greek  force  far  inferior  to  that  of  the  Athenians  at 
this  period,  did,  some  years  afterward,  very  nearly  conquer  Carthage. 

t  It  will  be  remembered  that  Spanish  infantry  were  the  staple  of  the 
Carthaginian  armies.  Doubtless  Alcibiades  and  other  leading  Athenians 
had  made  themselves  acquainted  with  the  Carthaginian  system  of  carry- 
ing on  war,  and  meant  to  adopt  it.  With  the  marvellous  powers  which 
Alcibiades  possessed  of  ingratiating  himself  with  men  of  every  class 
and  every  nation,  and  his  high  military  genius,  he  would  have  been  as 
formidable  a  chief  of  an  army  of  condottieri  as  Hannibal  afterward  was. 


DEFEAT   OF   THE   ATHENIANS 


47 


we  expected  to  storm, |  and  others  we  meant  to  take  by  sur- 
rounding them  with  fortified  lines.  We  thought  that  it  would 
thus  be  an  easy  matter  thoroughly  to  war  you  down ;  and  then 
we  should  become  the  masters  of  the  whole  Greek  race.  As  for 
expense,  we  reckoned  that  each  conquered  state  would  give 
us  supplies  of  money  and  provisions  sufficient  to  pay  for  its  own 
conquest,  and  furnish  the  means  for  the  conquest  of  its  neigh- 
bors. 

"  Such  are  the  designs  of  the  present  Athenian  expedition 
to  Sicily,  and  you  have  heard  them  from  the  lips  of  the  man 
who,  of  all  men  living,  is  most  accurately  acquainted  with  them. 
The  other  Athenian  generals,  who  remain  with  the  expedition, 
will  endeavor  to  carry  out  these  plans.  And  be  sure  that  with- 
out your  speedy  interference  they  will  all  be  accomplished. 
The  Sicilian  Greeks  are  deficient  in  military  training ;  but  still, 
if  they  could  at  once  be  brought  to  combine  in  an  organized 
resistance  to  Athens,  they  might  even  now  be  saved.  But  as 
for  the  Syracusans  resisting  Athens  by  themselves,  they  have 
already,  with  the  whole  strength  of  their  population,  fought  a 
battle  and  been  beaten  ;  they  cannot  face  the  Athenians  at  sea ; 
and  it  is  quite  impossible  for  them  to  hold  out  against  the  force 
of  their  invaders.  And  if  this  city  falls  into  the  hands  of  the 
Athenians,  all  Sicily  is  theirs,  and  presently  Italy  also;  and 
the  danger,  which  I  warned  you  of  from  that  quarter,  will 
soon  fall  upon  yourselves.  You  must,  therefore,  in  Sicily, 
fight  for  the  safety  of  Peloponnesus.  Send  some  galleys  thither 
instantly.  Put  men  on  board  who  can  work  their  own  way 
over,  and  who,  as  soon  as  they  land,  can  do  duty  as  regular 
troops.  But,  above  all,  let  one  of  yourselves,  let  a  man  of 
Sparta,  go  over  to  take  the  chief  command,  to  bring  into  order 
and  effective  discipline  the  forces  that  are  in  Syracuse,  and 
urge  those  who  at  present  hang  back  to  come  forward  and  aid 
the  Syracusans.  The  presence  of  a  Spartan  general  at  this 
crisis  will  do  more  to  save  the  city  than  a  whole  army."*  The 
renegade  then  proceeded  to  urge  on  them  the  necessity  of  en- 
couraging their  friends  in  Sicily,  by  showing  that  they  them- 
selves were  in  earnest  in  hostility  to  Athens.    He  exhorted  them 

t  Alcibiades  here  alluded  to  Sparta  itself,  which  was  unfortified.  His 
Spartan  hearers  must  have  glanced  round  them  at  these  words  with 
mixed  alarm  and  indignation. 

*  Thuc,  lib.  vi.,  sec.  90,  91. 


48  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

not  only  to  march  their  armies  into  Attica  again,  but  to  take 
up  a  permanent  fortified  position  in  the  country ;  and  he  gavt 
them  in  detail  information  of  all  that  the  Athenians  most 
dreaded,  and  how  his  country  might  receive  the  most  dirtress- 
ing  and  enduring  injury  at  their  hands. 

The  Spartans  resolved  to  act  on  his  advice,  and  appointed 
Gylippus  to  the  Sicilian  command.  Gylippus  was  a  man  who, 
to  the  national  bravery  and  military  skill  of  a  Spartan,  united 
political  sagacity  that  was  worthy  of  his  great  fellow-country- 
man Brasidas ;  but  his  merits  were  debased  by  mean  and  sor- 
did vices  ;  and  his  is  one  of  the  cases  in  which  history  has  been 
austerely  just,  and  where  little  or  no  fame  has  been  accorded 
to  the  successful  but  venal  soldier.  But  for  the  purpose  for 
which  he  was  required  in  Sicily,  an  abler  man  could  not  have 
been  found  in  Lacedaemon.  His  country  gave  him  neither  men 
nor  money,  but  she  gave  him  her  authority ;  and  the  influence 
of  her  name  and  of  his  own  talents  was  speedily  seen  in  the 
zeal  with  which  the  Corinthians  and  other  Peloponnesian 
Greeks  began  to  equip  a  squadron  to  act  under  him  for  the 
rescue  of  Sicily.  As  soon  as  four  galleys  were  ready,  he  hur- 
ried over  with  them  to  the  southern  coast  of  Italy,  and  there, 
though  he  received  such  evil  tidings  of  the  state  of  Syracuse 
that  he  abandoned  all  hope  of  saving  that  city,  he  determined 
to  remain  on  the  coast,  and  do  what  he  could  in  preserving 
the  Italian  cities  from  the  Athenians. 

So  nearly,  indeed,  had  Nicias  completed  his  beleaguering 
lines,  and  so  utterly  desperate  had  the  state  of  Syracuse  seem- 
ingly become,  that  an  assembly  of  the  Syracusans  was  actually 
convened,  and  they  were  discussing  the  terms  on  which  they 
should  offer  to  capitulate,  when  a  galley  was  seen  dashing  into 
the  great  harbor,  and  making  her  way  toward  the  town  with 
all  the  speed  which  her  rowers  could  supply.  From  her  shun- 
ning the  part  of  the  harbor  where  the  Athenian  fleet  lay,  and 
making  straight  for  the  Syracusan  side,  it  was  clear  that  she 
was  a  friend  ;  the  enemy's  cruisers,  careless  through  confidence 
of  success,  made  no  attempt  to  cut  her  ofif;  she  touched  the 
beach,  and  a  Corinthian  captain,  springing  on  shore  from  her, 
was  eagerly  conducted  to  the  assembly  of  the  Syracusan  peo- 
ple just  in  time  to  prevent  the  fatal  vote  being  put  for  a  sur- 
render. 

Providentially  for  Syracuse,  Gongylus,  the  commander  of 


DEFEAT   OF   THE   ATHENIANS  49 

the  galley,  had  been  prevented  by  an  Athenian  squadron  from 
following  Gylippus  to  South  Italy,  and  he  had  been  obliged 
to  push  direct  for  Syracuse  from  Greece. 

The  sight  of  actual  succor,  and  the  promise  of  more,  revived 
the  drooping  spirits  of  the  Syracusans.  They  felt  that  they 
were  not  left  desolate  to  perish,  and  the  tidings  that  a  Spartan 
was  coming  to  command  them  confirmed  their  resolution  to 
continue  their  resistance.  Gylippus  was  already  near  the  city. 
He  had  learned  at  Locri  that  the  first  report  which  had  reached 
him  of  the  state  of  Syracuse  was  exaggerated,  and  that  there 
was  unfinished  space  in  the  besiegers'  lines  through  which  it 
was  barely  possible  to  introduce  re-enforcements  into  the  town. 
Crossing  the  Straits  of  Messina,  which  the  culpable  negligence 
of  Nicias  had  left  unguarded,  Gylippus  landed  on  the  northern 
coast  of  Sicily,  and  there  began  to  collect  from  the  Greek  cities 
an  aririy,  of  which  the  regular  troops  that  he  brought  from 
Peloponnesus  formed  the  nucleus.  Such  was  the  influence  of 
the  name  of  Sparta,*  and  such  were  his  own  abilities  and  ac- 
tivity that  he  succeeded  in  raising  a  force  of  about  two  thou- 
sand fully-armed  infantry,  with  a  larger  number  of  irregular 
troops.  Nicias,  as  if  infatuated,  made  no  attempt  to  counter- 
act his  operations,  nor,  when  Gylippus  marched  his  little  army 
toward  Syracuse,  did  the  Athenian  commander  endeavor  to 
check  him.  The  Syracusans  marched  out  to  meet  him ;  and 
while  the  Athenians  were  solely  intent  on  completing  their 
fortifications  on  the  southern  side  toward  the  harbor,  Gylippus 
turned  their  position  by  occupying  the  high  ground  in  the 
extreme  rear  of  Epipolae.  He  then  marched  through  the  unforti- 
fied interval  of  Nicias'  lines  into  the  besieged  town,  and  joining 
his  troops  with  the  Syracusan  forces,  after  some  engage- 
ments with  varying  success,  gained  the  mastery  over  Nicias, 
drove  the  Athenians  from  Epipolse,  and  hemmed  them  into  a 
disadvantageous  position  in  the  low  grounds  near  the  great 
harbor. 

The  attention  of  all  Greece  was  now  fixed  on  Syracuse,  and 
every  enemy  of  Athens  felt  the  importance  of  the  opportunity 
now  offered  of  checking  her  ambition,  and,  perhaps,  of  strik- 
ing a  deadly  blow  at  her  power.     Large  re-enforcements  from 

*  The  effect  of  the  presence  of  a  Spartan  officer  on  the  troops  of  the 
other  Greeks  seems  to  have  been  like  the  effect  of  the  presence  of  an 
English  officer  upon  native  Indian  troops. 

4 


5° 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Corinth,  Thebes  and  other  cities  now  reached  the  Syracusans, 
while  the  baffled  and  dispirited  Athenian  general  earnestly  be- 
sought his  countrymen  to  recall  him,  and  represented  the 
further  prosecution  of  the  siege  as  hopeless. 

But  Athens  had  made  it  a  maxim  never  to  let  difficulty  or 
disaster  drive  her  back  from  any  enterprise  once  undertaken, 
so  long  as  she  possessed  the  means  of  making  any  effort,  how- 
ever desperate,  for  its  accomplishment.  With  indomitable 
pertinacity,  she  now  decreed,  instead  of  recalling  her  first  ar- 
mament from  before  Syracuse,  to  send  out  a  second,  though 
her  enemies  near  home  had  now  renewed  open  warfare  against 
her,  and  by  occupying  a  permanent  fortification  in  her  terri- 
tory had  severely  distressed  her  population,  and  were  pressing 
her  with  almost  all  the  hardships  of  an  actual  siege.  She  still 
was  mistress  of  the  sea,  and  she  sent  forth  another  fleet  of  sev- 
enty galleys,  and  another  army,  which  seemed  to  drain  almost 
the  last  reserves  of  her  military  population,  to  try  if  Syracuse 
could  not  yet  be  won,  and  the  honor  of  the  Athenian  arms  be 
preserved  from  the  stigma  of  a  retreat.  Hers  was,  indeed,  a 
spirit  that  might  be  broken,  but  never  would  bend.  At  the  head 
of  this  second  expedition  she  wisely  placed  her  best  general, 
Demosthenes,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  officers  that  the 
long  Peloponnesian  war  had  produced,  and  who,  if  he  had 
originally  held  the  Sicilian  command,  would  soon  have  brought 
Syracuse  to  submission. 

The  fame  of  Demosthenes  the  general  has  been  dimmed  by 
the  superior  lustre  of  his  great  countryman,  Demosthenes  the 
orator.  When  the  name  of  Demosthenes  is  mentioned,  it  is 
the  latter  alone  that  is  thought  of.  The  soldier  has  found  no 
biographer.  Yet  out  of  the  long  list  of  great  men  whom  the 
Athenian  republic  produced,  there  are  few  that  deserve  to  stand 
higher  than  this  brave,  though  finally  unsuccessful,  leader  of 
her  fleets  and  armies  in  the  first  half  of  the  Peloponnesian  war. 
In  his  first  campaign  in  i^tolia  he  had  shown  some  of  the  rash- 
ness of  youth,  and  had  received  a  lesson  of  caution  by  which 
he  profited  throughout  the  rest  of  his  career,  but  without  los- 
ing any  of  his  natural  energy  in  enterprise  or  in  execution.  He 
had  performed  the  distinguished  service  of  rescuing  Naupactus 
from  a  powerful  hostile  armament  in  the  seventh  year  of  the 
war ;  he  had  then,  at  the  request  of  the  Acarnanian  republics, 
taken  on  himself  the  office  of  commander-in-chief  of  all  their 


\ 


DEFEAT   OF   THE  ATHENIANS  51 

forces,  and  at  their  head  he  had  gained  some  important  ad- 
vantages over  the  enemies  of  Athens  in  Western  Greece.  His 
most  celebrated  exploits  had  been  the  occupation  of  Pylos  on 
the  Messenian  coast,  the  successful  defence  of  that  place  against 
the  fleet  and  armies  of  Lacedasmon,  and  the  subsequent  capture 
of  the  Spartan  forces  on  the  isle  of  Sphacteria,  which  was  the 
severest  blow  dealt  to  Sparta  throughout  the  war,  and  which 
had  mainly  caused  her  to  humble  herself  to  make  the  truce  with 
Athens.  Demosthenes  was  as  honorably  unknown  in  the  war 
of  party  politics  at  Athens  as  he  was  eminent  in  the  war  against 
the  foreign  enemy.  We  read  of  no  intrigues  of  his  on  either 
the  aristocratic  or  democratic  side.  He  was  neither  in  the  in- 
terest of  Nicias  nor  of  Cleon.  His  private  character  was  free 
from  any  of  the  stains  which  polluted  that  of  Alcibiades.  On 
all  these  points  the  silence  of  the  comic  dramatist  is  decisive 
evidence  in  his  favor.  He  had  also  the  moral  courage,  not 
always  combined  with  physical,  of  seeking  to  do  his  duty  to  his 
country,  irrespective  of  any  odium  that  he  himself  might  incur, 
and  unhampered  by  any  petty  jealousy  of  those  who  were  asso- 
ciated with  him  in  command.  There  are  few  men  named  in 
ancient  history  of  whom  posterity  would  gladly  know  more,  or 
whom  we  sympathize  with  more  deeply  in  the  calamities  that 
befell  them,  than  Demosthenes,  the  son  of  Alcisthenes,  who, 
in  the  spring  of  the  year  413  B.C.,  left  Piraeus  at  the  head  of  the 
second  Athenian  expedition  against  Sicily. 

His  arrival  was  critically  timed ;  for  Gylippus  had  encour- 
aged the  Syracusans  to  attack  the  Athenians  under  Nicias  by 
sea  as  well  as  by  land,  and  by  one  able  stratagem  of  Ariston, 
one  of  the  admirals  of  the  Corinthian  auxiliary  squadron,  the 
Syracusans  and  their  confederates  had  inflicted  on  the  fleet  of 
Nicias  the  first  defeat  that  the  Athenian  navy  had  ever  sustained 
from  a  numerically  inferior  enemy.  Gylippus  was  preparing 
to  follow  up  his  advantage  by  fresh  attacks  on  the  Athenians 
on  both  elements,  when  the  arrival  of  Demosthenes  completely 
changed  the  aspect  of  affairs,  and  restored  the  superiority  to 
the  invaders.  With  seventy-three  war-galleys  in  the  highest 
state  of  efficiency,  and  brilliantly  equipped,  with  a  force  of  five 
thousand  picked  men  of  the  regular  infantry  of  Athens  and  her 
allies,  and  a  still  larger  number  of  bow-men,  javelin-men,  and 
slingers  on  board,  Demosthenes  rowed  round  the  great  harbor 
with  loud  cheers  and  martial  music,  as  if  in  defiance  of  the 


5 

52  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Syracusans  and  their  confederates.  His  arrival  had  indeed 
changed  their  newly-born  hopes  into  the  deepest  consterna- 
tion. The  resources  of  Athens  seemed  inexhaustible,  and  re- 
sistance to  her  hopeless.  They  had  been  told  that  she  was  re- 
duced to  the  last  extremities,  and  that  her  territory  was  occu- 
pied by  an  enemy  ;  and  yet  here  they  saw  her  sending  forth,  as 
if  in  prodigality  of  power,  a  second  armament  to  make  foreign 
conquests,  not  inferior  to  that  with  which  Nicias  had  first 
landed  on  the  Sicilian  shores. 

With  the  intuitive  decision  of  a  great  commander,  De- 
mosthenes at  once  saw  that  the  possession  of  Epipolse  was  the 
key  to  the  possession  of  Syracuse,  and  he  resolved  to  made  a 
prompt  and  vigorous  attempt  to  recover  that  position,  while 
his  force  was  unimpaired,  and  the  consternation  which  its  ar- 
rival had  produced  among  the  besieged  remained  unabated. 
The  Syracusans  and  their  allies  had  run  out  an  outwork  along 
Epipolse  from  the  city  walls,  intersecting  the  fortified  lines  of 
circumvallation  which  Nicias  had  commenced,  but  from  which 
he  had  been  driven  by  Gylippus.  Could  Demosthenes  succeed 
in  storming  this  outwork,  and  in  re-establishing  the  Athenian 
troops  on  the  high  ground,  he  might  fairly  hope  to  be  able  to 
resume  the  circumvallation  of  the  city,  and  become  the  con- 
queror of  Syracuse ;  for  when  once  the  besiegers'  lines  were 
completed,  the  number  of  the  troops  with  which  Gylippus  had 
garrisoned  the  place  would  only  tend  to  exhaust  the  stores  of 
provisions  and  accelerate  its  downfall. 

An  easily-repelled  attack  was  first  made  on  the  outwork  in 
the  day-time,  probably  more  with  the  view  of  blinding  the  be- 
sieged to  the  nature  of  the  main  operations  than  with  any  ex- 
pectation of  succeeding  in  an  open  assault,  with  every  disad- 
vantage of  the  ground  to  contend  against.  But,  when  the  dark- 
ness had  set  in,  Demosthenes  formed  his  men  in  columns,  each 
soldier  taking  with  him  five  days'  provisions,  and  the  engineers 
and  workmen  of  the  camp  following  the  troops  with  their  tools, 
and  all  portable  implements  of  fortification,  so  as  at  once  to 
secure  any  advantage  of  ground  that  the  army  might  gain. 
Thus  equipped  and  prepared,  he  led  his  men  along  by  the  foot 
of  the  southern  flank  of  Epipolse,  in  a  direction  toward  the  in- 
terior of  the  island,  till  he  came  immediately  below  the  narrow 
ridge  that  forms  the  extremity  of  the  high  ground  looking 
westward.     He  then  wheeled  his  vanguard  to  the  right,  sent 


DEFEAT   OF   THE  ATHENIANS  53 

them  rapidly  up  the  paths  that  wind  along  the  face  of  the  cliflf, 
and  succeeded  in  completely  surprising  the  Syracusan  outposts, 
and  in  placing  his  troops  fairly  on  the  extreme  summit  of  the 
all-important  Epipolae.  Thence  the  Athenians  marched  eager- 
ly down  the  slope  toward  the  town,  routing  some  Syracusan 
detachments  that  were  quartered  in  their  way,  and  vigorously 
assailing  the  unprotected  side  of  the  outwork.  All  at  first 
favored  them.  The  outwork  was  abandoned  by  its  garrison, 
and  the  Athenian  engineers  began  to  dismantle  it.  In  vain 
Gylippus  brought  up  fresh  troops  to  check  the  assault ;  the 
Athenians  broke  and  drove  them  back,  and  continued  to  press 
hotly  forward,  in  the  full  confidence  of  victory.  But,  amid  the 
general  consternation  of  the  Syracusans  and  their  confederates, 
one  body  of  infantry  stood  firm.  This  was  a  brigade  of  their 
Boeotian  allies,  which  was  posted  low  down  the  slope  of 
Epipolae,  outside  the  city  walls.  Coolly  and  steadily  the  Boeotian 
infantry  formed  their  line,  and,  undismayed  by  the  current  of 
flight  around  them,  advanced  against  the  advancing  Athenians. 
This  was  the  crisis  of  the  battle.  But  the  Athenian  van  was 
disorganized  by  its  own  previous  successes ;  and,  yielding  to 
the  unexpected  charge  thus  made  on  it  by  troops  in  perfect 
order,  and  of  the  most  obstinate  courage,  it  was  driven  back  in 
confusion  upon  the  other  divisions  of  the  army,  that  still  con- 
tinued to  press  forward.  When  once  the  tide  was  thus  turned, 
the  Syracusans  passed  rapidly  from  the  extreme  of  panic  to 
the  extreme  of  vengeful  daring,  and  with  all  their  forces  they 
now  fiercely  assailed  the  embarrassed  and  receding  Athenians. 
In  vain  did  the  officers  of  the  latter  strive  to  re-form  their  line. 
Amid  the  din  and  the  shouting  of  the  fight,  and  the  confusion 
inseparable  upon  a  night  engagement,  especially  one  where 
many  thousand  combatants  were  pent  and  whirled  together  in 
a  narrow  and  uneven  area,  the  necessary  manoeuvres  were  im- 
practicable ;  and  though  many  companies  still  fought  on  des- 
perately, wherever  the  moonlight  showed  them  the  semblance 
of  a  foe,*  they  fought  without  concert  or  subordination ;  and 
not  unfrequently,  amid  the  deadly  chaos,  Athenian  troops  as- 

*  ''Hy  ixev  yatp  ffe\-i)vi]  \anirf)b.  eSpaiv  h\  otirwi  aW-fi\ovi,  ij  iv  <re\-fivri  eiKhi  T^r 
fi-fv  o\inv  Tov  awfiaros  vpoopav  tt)v  Se  yvuiarLV  tov  olicelov  aTri(rTe7(T6ai. — Thuc,  lib. 
vii.,  44.  Compare  Tacitus'  description  of  the  night  engagement  in  the 
civil  war  between  Vespasian  and  Vitellius.  "  Neutro  inclinaverat 
fortuna,  donee  adulta  nocte,  lunu  ostcnderet  acies,  falleretque." — Hist., 
lib.  iii.,  sec.  23. 


54  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

sailed  each  other.  Keeping  their  ranks  close,  the  Syracusans 
and  their  alHes  pressed  on  against  the  disorganized  masses  of 
the  besiegers,  and  at  length  drove  them,  with  heavy  slaughter, 
over  the  cliffs,  which  an  hour  or  two  before  they  had  scaled 
full  of  hope,  and  apparently  certain  of  success. 

This  defeat  was  decisive  of  the  event  of  the  siege.  The  Athe- 
nians afterward  struggled  only  to  protect  themselves  from  the 
vengeance  which  the  Syracusans  sought  to  wreak  in  the  com- 
plete destruction  of  their  invaders.  Never,  however,  was 
vengeance  more  complete  and  terrible.  A  series  of  sea-fights 
followed,  in  which  the  Athenian  galleys  were  utterly  destroyed 
or  captured.  The  mariners  and  soldiers  who  escaped  death  in 
disastrous  engagements,  and  in  a  vain  attempt  to  force  a 
retreat  into  the  interior  of  the  island,  became  prisoners  of  war. 
Nicias  and  Demosthenes  were  put  to  death  in  cold  blood, 
and  their  men  either  perished  miserably  in  the  Syracusan 
dungeons,  or  were  sold  into  slavery  to  the  very  persons  whom, 
in  their  pride  of  power,  they  had  crossed  the  seas  to  enslave. 

All  danger  from  Athens  to  the  independent  nations  of  the 
West  was  now  forever  at  an  end.  She,  indeed,  continued  to 
struggle  against  her  combined  enemies  and  revolted  allies  with 
unparalleled  gallantry,  and  many  more  years  of  varying  war- 
fare passed  away  before  she  surrendered  to  their  arms.  But 
no  success  in  subsequent  contests  could  ever  have  restored  her 
to  the  pre-eminence  in  enterprise,  resources,  and  maritime  skill 
which  she  had  acquired  before  her  fatal  reverses  in  Sicily.  Nor 
among  the  rival  Greek  republics,  whom  her  own  rashness  aided 
to  crush  her,  was  there  any  capable  of  reorganizing  her  empire, 
or  resuming  her  schemes  of  conquest.  The  dominion  of  West- 
ern Europe  was  left  for  Rome  and  Carthage  to  dispute  two  cen- 
turies later,  in  conflicts  still  more  terrible,  and  with  even  higher 
displays  of  military  daring  and  genius  than  Athens  had  wit- 
nessed either  in  her  rise,  her  meridian,  or  her  fall. 


DEFEAT   OF   THE   ATHENIANS  55 

SYNOroiS  OF  Events  Between  the  Defeat  of  the  Athe- 
nians AT  Syracuse  and  the  Battle  of  Arbela. 

412  B.C.  Many  of  the  subject  allies  of  Athens  revolt  from 
her  on  her  disasters  before  Syracuse  being  known ;  the  seat  ot 
war  is  transferred  to  the  Hellespont  and  eastern  side  of  the 
^gsean. 

410.  The  Carthaginians  attempt  to  make  conquests  in  Sicily. 

407.  Cyrus  the  Younger  is  sent  by  the  King  of  Persia  to 
take  the  government  of  all  the  maritime  parts  of  Asia  Minor, 
and  with  orders  to  help  the  Lacedaemonian  fleet  against  the 
Athenian. 

406.  Agrigentum  taken  by  the  Carthaginians. 

405.  The  last  Athenian  fleet  destroyed  by  Lysander  at  Mgos- 
potami.  Athens  closely  besieged.  Rise  of  the  power  of 
Dionysius  at  Syracuse. 

404.  Athens  surrenders.  End  of  the  Peloponnesian  war. 
Tlie  ascendancy  of  Sparta  complete  throughout  Greece. 

403.  Thrasybulus,  aided  by  the  Thebans  and  with  the  con- 
nivance of  one  of  the  Spartan  kings,  liberates  Athens  from  the 
Thirty  Tyrants  and  restores  the  democracy. 

401.  Cyrus  the  Younger  commences  his  expedition  into  Up- 
per Asia  to  dethrone  his  brother,  Artaxerxes  Mnemon.  He 
takes  with  him  an  auxiUary  force  of  ten  thousand  Greeks.  He 
is  killed  in  battle  at  Cunaxa,  and  the  Ten  Thousand,  led  by 
Xenophon,  efifect  their  retreat  in  spite  of  the  Persian  armies 
and  the  natural  obstacles  of  their  march. 

399.  In  this  and  the  five  following  years,  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians, under  Agesilaus  and  other  commanders,  carry  on  war 
against  the  Persian  satraps  in  Asia  Minor. 

396.  Syracuse  besieged  by  the  Carthaginians,  and  success- 
fully defended  by  Dionysius. 

394.  Rome  makes  her  first  great  stride  in  the  career  of  con- 
quest by  the  capture  of  Veil. 

393.  The  Athenian  admiral,  Conon,  in  conjunction  with  the 
Persian  satrap  Pharnabazus,  defeats  the  Lacedaemonian  fleet 
off  Cnidus,  and  restores  the  fortifications  of  Athens.  Several 
of  the  former  allies  of  Sparta  in  Greece  carry  on  hostilities 
against  her. 

388.  The  nations  of  Northern  Europe  now  first  appear  in  au- 
thentic history.     The  Gauls  overrun  great  part  of  Italy  and 


56  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

burn  Rome.  Rome  recovers  from  the  blow,  but  her  old  ene- 
mies the  ^quians  and  Volscians  are  left  completely  crushed 
by  the  Gallic  invaders. 

387.  The  peace  of  Antalcidas  is  concluded  among  the  Greeks 
by  the  mediation,  and  under  the  sanction,  of  the  Persian  king. 

378  to  361.  Fresh  wars  in  Greece.  Epaminondas  raises 
Thebes  to  be  the  leading  state  of  Greece,  and  the  supremacy 
of  Sparta  is  destroyed  at  the  battle  of  Leuctra.  Epaminondas 
is  killed  in  gaining  the  victory  of  Mantinea,  and  the  power  of 
Thebes  falls  with  him.  The  Athenians  attempt  a  balancing 
system  between  Sparta  and  Thebes. 

359.  Philip  becomes  king  of  Macedon. 

357.  The  Social  War  breaks  out  in  Greece  and  lasts  three 
years.  Its  result  checks  the  attempt  of  Athens  to  regain  her 
old  maritime  empire. 

356.  Alexander  the  Great  is  born. 

343.  Rome  begins  her  wars  with  the  Samnites ;  they  ex- 
tend over  a  period  of  fifty  years.  The  end  of  this  obstinate  con- 
test is  to  secure  for  her  the  dominion  of  Italy. 

340.  Fresh  attempts  of  the  Carthaginians  upon  Syracuse. 
Timoleon  defeats  them  with  great  slaughter. 

338.  Philip  defeats  the  confederate  armies  of  Athens  and 
Thebes  at  Chgeronea,  and  the  Macedonian  supremacy  over 
Greece  is  firmly  established. 

336.  Philip  is  assassinated,  and  Alexander  the  Great  be- 
comes king  of  Macedon.  He  gains  several  victories  over  the 
northern  barbarians  who  had  attacked  Macedonia,  and  de- 
stroys Thebes,  which,  in  conjunction  with  Athens,  had  taken 
up  arms  against  the  Macedonians. 

334.  Alexander  passes  the  Hellespont. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE    BATTLE   OF   ARBELA,    B.C.    331. 

"  Alexander  deserves  the  glory  which  he  has  enjoyed  for  so  many 
centuries  and  among  all  nations :  but  what  if  he  had  been  beaten  at 
Arbela,  having  the  Euphrates,  the  Tigris,  and  the  deserts  in  his  rear, 
without  any  strong  places  of  refuge,  nine  hundred  leagues  from  Mace- 
donia !  " — Napoleon. 

"  Asia  beheld  with  astonishment  and  awe  the  uninterrupted  progress 
of  a  hero,  the  sweep  of  whose  conquests  was  as  wide  and  rapid  as  that 
of  her  own  barbaric  kings,  or  of  the  Scythian  or  Chaldsean  hordes ;  but, 
far  unlike  the  transient  whirlwinds  of  Asiatic  warfare,  the  advance  of 
the  Macedonian  leader  was  no  less  deliberate  than  rapid :  at  every  step 
the  Greek  power  took  root,  and  the  language  and  the  civilization  of 
Greece  were  planted  from  the  shores  of  the  ^geean  to  the  hanks  of  the 
Indus,  from  the  Caspian  and  the  great  Hyrcanian  plain  to  the  cataracts 
of  the  Nile;  to  exist  actually  for  nearly  a  thousand  years,  and  in  their 
effects  to  endure  forever." — Arnold. 

ALONG  and  not  uninstructive  list  might  be  made  out 
of  illustrious  men  whose  characters  have  been  vindi- 
cated during  recent  times  from  aspersions  which  for 
centuries  had  been  thrown  on  them.  The  spirit  of  modern  in- 
quiry, and  the  tendency  of  modern  scholarship,  both  of  which 
are  often  said  to  be  solely  negative  and  destructive,  have,  in 
truth,  restored  to  splendor,  and  almost  created  anew,  far  more 
than  they  have  assailed  with  censure,  or  dismissed  from  con- 
sideration as  unreal.  The  truth  of  many  a  brilliant  narrative 
of  brilliant  exploits  has  of  late  years  been  triumphantly  demon- 
strated, and  the  shallowness  of  the  skeptical  scoffs  with  which 
little  minds  have  carped  at  the  great  minds  of  antiquity  has 
been  in  many  instances  decisively  exposed.  The  laws,  the 
politics,  and  the  lines  of  action  adopted  or  recommended  by 
eminent  men  and  powerful  nations  have  been  examined  with 
keener  investigation,  and  considered  with  more  comprehen- 
sive judgment  than  formerly  were  brought  to  bear  on  these  sub- 
jects. The  result  has  been  at  least  as  often  favorable  as  unfavor- 
able to  the  persons  and  the  states  so  scrutinized,  and  many  an 

S7 


58 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


oft-repeated  slander  against  both  measures  and  men  has  thus 
been  silenced,  we  may  hope  forever. 

The  veracity  of  Herodotus,  the  pure  patriotism  of  Pericles, 
of  Demosthenes,  and  of  the  Gracchi,  the  wisdom  of  Chsthenes 
and  of  Licinius  as  constitutional  reformers,  may  be  mentioned 
as  facts  which  recent  writers  have  cleared  from  unjust  suspicion 
and  censure.  And  it  might  be  easily  shown  that  the  defensive 
tendency,  which  distinguishes  the  present  and  recent  great 
writers  of  Germany,  France,  and  England,  has  been  equally 
manifested  in  the  spirit  in  which  they  have  treated  the  heroes 
of  thought  and  heroes  of  action  who  lived  during  what  we  term 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  whom  it  was  so  long  the  fashion  to  sneer 
at  or  neglect. 

The  name  of  the  victor  of  Arbela  has  led  to  these  reflections  ; 
for,  although  the  rapidity  and  extent  of  Alexander's  conquests 
have  through  all  ages  challenged  admiration  and  amazement, 
the  grandeur  of  genius  which  he  displayed  in  his  schemes  of 
commerce,  civilization,  and  of  comprehensive  union  and  unity 
among  nations,  has,  until  lately,  been  comparatively  unhon- 
ored.  This  long-continued  depreciation  was  of  early  date. 
The  ancient  rhetoricians — a  class  of  babblers,  a  school  for  lies 
and  scandal,  as  Niebuhr  justly  termed  them — chose,  among  the 
stock  themes  for  their  commonplaces,  the  character  and  ex- 
ploits of  Alexander.  They  had  their  followers  in  every  age; 
and,  until  a  very  recent  period,  all  who  wished  to  "  point  a  moral 
or  adorn  a  tale,"  about  unreasoning  ambition,  extravagant 
pride,  and  the  formidable  frenzies  of  free  will  when  leagued 
with  free  power,  have  never  failed  to  blazon  forth  the  so-called 
madman  of  Macedonia  as  one  of  the  most  glaring  examples. 
Without  doubt,  many  of  these  writers  adopted  with  implicit 
credence,  traditional  ideas,  and  supposed,  with  uninquiring 
philanthropy,  that  in  blackening  Alexander  they  were  doing 
humanity  good  service.  But  also,  without  doubt,  many  of  his 
assailants,  like  those  of  other  great  men,  have  been  mainly  in- 
stigated by  "  that  strongest  of  all  antipathies,  the  antipathy  of 
a  second-rate  mind  to  a  first-rate  one,"*  and  by  the  envy  which 
talent  too  often  bears  to  genius. 

Arrian,  who  wrote  his  history  of  Alexander  when  Hadrian 
was  emperor  of  the  Roman  world,  and  when  the  spirit  of  decla- 
mation and  dogmatism  was  at  its  full  height,  but  who  was  him- 

*  De  Stael. 


THE   BATTLE    OF    ARBELA  59 

self,  unlike  the  dreaming  pedants  of  the  schools,  a  statesman 
and  a  soldier  of  practical  and  proved  ability,  well  rebuked  the 
malevolent  aspersions  which  he  heard  continually  thrown  upon 
the  memory  of  the  great  conqueror  of  the  East.  He  truly  says, 
"  Let  the  man  who  speaks  evil  of  Alexander  not  merely  bring 
forward  those  passages  of  Alexander's  life  which  were  really 
evil,  but  let  him  collect  and  review  all  the  actions  of  Alexander, 
and  then  let  him  thoroughly  consider  first  who  and  what  man- 
ner of  man  he  himself  is,  and  what  has  been  his  own  career ;  and 
then  let  him  consider  who  and  what  manner  of  man  Alexander 
was,  and  to  what  an  eminence  of  human  grandeur  he  arrived. 
Let  him  consider  that  Alexander  was  a  king,  and  the  undis- 
puted lord  of  the  two  continents,  and  that  his  name  is  renowned 
throughout  the  whole  earth.  Let  the  evil-speaker  against 
Alexander  bear  all  this  in  mind,  and  then  let  him  reflect  on  his 
own  insignificance,  the  pettiness  of  his  own  circumstances  and 
afifairs,  and  the  blunders  that  he  makes  about  these,  paltry  and 
trifling  as  they  are.  Let  him  then  ask  himself  whether  he  is  a 
fit  person  to  censure  and  revile  such  a  man  as  Alexander.  I 
believe  that  there  was  in  his  time  no  nation  of  men,  no  city,  nay, 
no  single  individual,  with  whom  Alexander's  name  had  not  be- 
come a  familiar  word.  I  therefore  hold  that  such  a  man,  who 
was  like  no  ordinary  mortal,  was  not  born  into  the  world  with- 
out some  special  providence."* 

And  one  of  the  most  distinguished  soldiers  and  writers  of 
our  own  nation,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  though  he  failed  to  esti- 
mate justly  the  full  merits  of  Alexander,  has  expressed  his  sense 
of  the  grandeur  of  the  part  played  in  the  world  by  "  the  great 
Emathian  conqueror  "  in  language  that  well  deserves  quota- 
tion: 

"  So  much  hath  the  spirit  of  some  one  man  excelled  as  itv^ 
hath  undertaken  and  effected  the  alteration  of  the  greatest 
states  and  commonweals,  the  erection  of  monarchies,  the  con- 
quest of  kingdoms  and  empires,  guided  handfuls  of  men 
against  multitudes  of  equal  bodily  strength,  contrived  victories 
beyond  all  hope  and  discourse  of  reason,  converted  the  fearful 
passions  of  his  own  followers  into  magnanimity,  and  the  valor 
of  his  enemies  into  cowardice ;  such  spirits  have  been  stirred 
up  in  sundry  ages  of  the  world,  and  in  divers  parts  thereof,  to 
erect  and  cast  down  again,  to  establish  and  to  destroy,  and  to 
*  Arrian,  lib.  vii.,  ad  finem. 


6o  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

bring  all  things,  persons,  and  states  to  the  same  certain  ends, 
whicli  the  infinite  spirit  of  the  Universal,  piercing,  moving  and 
governing  all  things,  hath  ordained.  Certainly,  the  things  that 
this  king  did  were  marvelous,  and  would  hardly  have  been  un- 
dertaken by  any  one  else;  and  though  his  father  had  deter- 
mined to  have  invaded  the  Lesser  Asia,  it  is  like  enough  that  he 
would  have  contented  himself  with  some  part  thereof,  and  not 
have  discovered  the  river  of  Indus,  as  this  man  did."* 

A  higher  authority  than  either  Arrian  or  Raleigh  may  now 
be  referred  to  by  those  who  wish  to  know  the  real  merit  of 
Alexander  as  a  general,  and  how  far  the  commonplace  asser- 
tions are  true  that  his  successes  were  the  mere  results  of  fortu- 
nate rashness  and  unreasoning  pugnacity.  Napoleon  selected 
Alexander  as  one  of  the  seven  greatest  generals  whose  noble 
deeds  history  has  handed  down  to  us,  and  from  the  study  of 
whose  campaigns  the  principles  of  war  are  to  be  learned.  The 
critique  of  the  greatest  conqueror  of  modern  times  on  the  mili- 
tary career  of  the  great  conqueror  of  the  Old  World  is  no  less 
graphic  than  true : 

"  Alexander  crossed  the  Dardanelles  334  B.C.,  with  an 
army  of  about  forty  thousand  men,  of  which  one-eighth  was 
cavalry;  he  forced  the  passage  of  the  Granicus  in  opposition 
to  an  army  under  Memnon,  the  Greek,  who  commanded  for 
Darius  on  the  coast  of  Asia,  and  he  spent  the  whole  of  the  year 
333  in  establishing  his  power  in  Asia  Minor.  He  was  seconded 
by  the  Greek  colonies,  who  dwelt  on  the  borders  of  the  Black 
Sea  and  on  the  Mediterranean,  and  in  Sardis,  Ephesus,  Tarsus, 
Miletus,  etc.  The  kings  of  Persia  left  their  provinces  and  towns 
to  be  governed  according  to  their  own  particular  laws.  Their 
empire  was  a  union  of  confederated  states,  and  did  not  form 
one  nation ;  this  facilitated  its  conquest.  As  Alexander  only 
wished  for  the  throne  of  the  monarch,  he  easily  effected  the 
change  by  respecting  the  customs,  manners,  and  laws  of  the 
people,  who  experienced  no  change  in  their  condition. 

"  In  the  year  332  he  met  with  Darius  at  the  head  of  sixty 
thousand  men,  who  had  taken  up  a  position  near  Tarsus,  on 
the  banks  of  the  Issus,  in  the  province  of  Cilicia.  He  defeated 
him,  entered  Syria,  took  Damascus,  which  contained  all  the 
riches  of  the  Great  King,  and  laid  siege  to  Tyre.  This  superb 
metropolis  of  the  commerce  of  the  world  detained  him  nine 

*  "  The  Historic  of  the  World,"  by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  Knight,  p.  648. 


THE   BATTLE   OF    ARBELA  6l 

months.  He  took  Gaza  after  a  siege  of  two  months ;  crossed 
the  Desert  in  seven  days ;  entered  Pelusium  and  Memphis, 
and  founded  i\lexandria.  In  less  than  two  years,  after  two 
battles  and  four  or  five  sieges,  the  coasts  of  the  Black  Sea,  from 
Phasis  to  Byzantium,  those  of  the  Mediterranean  as  far  as  Alex- 
andria, all  Asia  Minor,  Syria,  and  Egypt,  had  submitted  to  his 
arms. 

"  In  331  he  repassed  the  Desert,  encamped  in  Tyre,  recrossed 
Syria,  entered  Damascus,  passed  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris, 
and  defeated  Darius  on  the  field  of  Arbela  when  he  was  at  the 
head  of  a  still  stronger  army  than  that  which  he  commanded 
on  the  Issus,  and  Babylon  opened  her  gates  to  him.  In  330  he 
overran  Susa  and  took  that  city,  Persepolis,  and  Pasargada, 
which  contained  the  tomb  of  Cyrus.  In  329  he  directed  his 
course  northward,  entered  Ecbatana,  and  extended  his  con- 
quests to  the  coasts  of  the  Caspian,  punished  Bessus,  the  cow- 
ardly assassin  of  Darius,  penetrated  into  Scythia,  and  subdued 
the  Scythians.  In  328  he  forced  the  passage  of  the  Oxus,  re- 
ceived sixteen  thousand  recruits  from  Macedonia,  and  reduced 
the  neighboring  people  to  subjection.  In  327  he  crossed  the 
Indus,  vanquished  Porus  in  a  pitched  battle,  took  him  prisoner, 
and  treated  him  as  a  king.  He  contemplated  passing  the 
Ganges,  but  his  army  refused.  He  sailed  down  the  Indus,  in 
the  year  326,  with  eight  hundred  vessels ;  having  arrived  at 
the  ocean,  he  sent  Nearchus  with  a  fleet  to  run  along  the  coasts 
of  the.  Indian  Ocean  and  the  Persian  Gulf  as  far  as  the  mouth  of 
the  Euphrates.  In  325  he  took  sixty  days  in  crossing  from 
Gedrosia,  entered  Keramania,  returned  to  Pasargada.  Per- 
sepolis, and  Susa,  and  married  Statira,  the  daughter  of  Darius. 
In  324  he  marched  once  more  to  the  north,  passed  Ecbatana, 
and  terminated  his  career  at  Babylon."* 

The  enduring  importance  of  Alexander's  conquests  is  to  be 
estimated,  not  by  the  duration  of  his  own  life  and  empire,  or 
even  by  the  duration  of  the  kingdoms  which  his  generals  after 
his  death  formed  out  of  the  fragments  of  that  mighty  dominion. 
In  every  region  of  the  world  that  he  traversed,  Alexander  planted 
Greek  settlements  and  founded  cities,  in  the  populations  of 
which  the  Greek  element  at  once  asserted  its  predominance. 
Among  his  successors,  the  Seleucidae  and  the  Ptolemies 
imitated  their  great  captain  in  blending  schemes  of  civili- 
*  See  Count  Montholon's  "  Memoirs  of  Napoleon." 


62  DECISIVE   BATTLES 

zation,  of  commercial  intercourse,  and  of  literary  and  scientific 
research  with  all  their  enterprises  of  military  aggrandizement 
and  with  all  their  systems  of  civil  administration.  Such  was 
the  ascendancy  of  the  Greek  genius,  so  wonderfully  compre- 
hensive and  assimilating  was  the  cultivation  which  it  intro- 
duced, that,  within  thirty  years  after  Alexander  crossed  the 
Hellespont,  the  Greek  language  was  spoken  in  every  country 
from  the  shores  of  the  ^gaean  to  the  Indus,  and  also  through- 
out Egypt — not,  indeed,  wholly  to  the  extirpation  of  the  native 
dialects,  but  it  became  the  language  of  every  court,  of  all  litera- 
ture, of  every  judicial  and  political  function,  and  formed  a 
medium  of  communication  among  the  many  myriads  of  man- 
kind inhabiting  these  large  portions  of  the  Old  World,  f 
Throughout  Asia  Minor,  Syria,  and  Egypt,  the  Hellenic  char- 
acter that  was  thus  imparted  remained  in  full  vigor  down  to  the 
time  of  the  Mohammedan  conquests.  The  infinite  value  of 
this  to  humanity  in  the  highest  and  holiest  point  of  view  has 
often  been  pointed  out,  and  the  workings  of  the  finger  of  Provi- 
dence have  been  gratefully  recognized  by  those  who  have  ob- 
served how  the  early  growth  and  progress  of  Christianity  were 
aided  by  that  diffusion  of  the  Greek  language  and  civilization 
throughout  Asia  Minor,  Syria,  and  Egypt,  which  had  been 
caused  by  the  Macedonian  conquest  of  the  East. 

In  upper  Asia,  beyond  the  Euphrates,  the  direct  and  material 
influence  of  Greek  ascendancy  was  more  short-lived.  Yet, 
during  the  existence  of  the  Hellenic  kingdoms  in  these  regions, 
especially  of  the  Greek  kingdom  of  Bactria,  the  modern  Bok- 
hara, very  important  effects  were  produced  on  the  intellectual 
tendencies  and  tastes  of  the  inhabitants  of  those  countries,  and 
of  the  adjacent  ones,  by  the  animating  contact  of  the  Grecian 
spirit.  Much  of  Hindoo  science  and  philosophy,  much  of  the 
literature  of  the  later  Persian  kingdom  of  the  Arsacidge,  either 
originated  from,  or  was  largely  modified  by,  Grecian  influences. 
So,  also,  the  learning  and  science  of  the  Arabians  were  in  a  far 
less  degree  the  result  of  original  invention  and  genius,  than  the 
reproduction,  in  an  altered  form,  of  the  Greek  philosophy  and 
the  Greek  lore  acquired  by  the  Saracenic  conquerors,  together 
with  their  acquisition  of  the  provinces  which  Alexander  had 
subjugated,  nearly  a  thousand  years  before  the  armed  disciples 
of  Mohammed  commenced  their  career  in  the  East.  It  is  well 
t  Sec  Arnold,  Hist.  Rome,  ii.,  p.  406. 


THE   BATTLE   OF    ARBELA  63 

known  that  Western  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages  drew  its 
philosophy,  its  arts,  and  its  science  principally  from  Arabian 
teachers.  And  thus  we  see  how  the  intellectual  influence  of 
ancient  Greece,  poured  on  the  Eastern  world  by  Alexander's 
victories,  and  then  brought  back  to  bear  on  Mediaeval  Europe 
by  the  spread  of  the  Saracenic  powers,  has  exerted  its  action 
on  the  elements  of  modern  civilization  by  this  powerful,  though 
indirect,  channel,  as  well  as  by  the  more  obvious  effects  of  the 
remnants  of  classic  civilization  which  survived  in  Italy,  Gaul, 
Britain,  and  Spain,  after  the  irruption  of  the  Germanic  nations.* 

These  considerations  invest  the  Macedonian  triumphs  in  the 
East  with  never-dying  interest,  such  as  the  most  showy  and 
sanguinary  successes  of  mere  "  low  ambition  and  the  pride  of 
kings,"  however  they  may  dazzle  for  a  moment,  can  never  re- 
tain with  posterity.  Whether  the  old  Persian  empire  which 
Cyrus  founded  could  have  survived  much  longer  than  it  did, 
even  if  Darius  had  been  victorious  at  Arbela,  may  safely  be  dis- 
puted. That  ancient  dominion,  like  the  Turkish  at  the  present 
time,  labored  under  every  cause  of  decay  and  dissolution.  The 
satraps,  like  the  modern  pashaws,  continually  rebelled  against 
the  central  power,  and  Egypt  in  particular  was  almost  always  in 
a  state  of  insurrection  against  its  nominal  sovereign.  There 
was  no  longer  any  effective  central  control,  or  any  internal  prin- 
ciple of  unity  fused  through  the  huge  mass  of  the  empire,  and 
binding  it  together.  Persia  was  evidently  about  to  fall ;  but, 
had  it  not  been  for  Alexander's  invasion  of  Asia,  she  would 
most  probably  have  fallen  beneath  some  other  Oriental  power, 
as  Media  and  Babylon  had  formerly  fallen  before  herself,  and 
as,  in  after  times,  the  Parthian  supremacy  gave  way  to  the  re- 
vived ascendancy  of  Persia  in  the  East,  under  the  sceptres  of 
the  Arsacidae.  A  revolution  that  merely  substituted  one  East- 
ern power  for  another  would  have  been  utterly  barren  and  un- 
profitable to  mankind. 

Alexander's  victory  at  Arbela  not  only  overthrew  an  Ori- 
ental dynasty,  but  established  European  rulers  in  its  stead.  It 
broke  the  monotony  of  the  Eastern  world  by  the  impression  of 
Western  energy  and  superior  civilization,  even  as  England's 
present  mission  is  to  break  up  the  mental  and  moral  stagnation 
of  India  and  Cathay  by  pouring  upon  and  through  them  the 
impulsive  current  of  Anglo-Saxon  commerce  and  conquest. 
*  See  Humboldt's  "  Cosmos." 


64  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Arbela,  the  city  which  has  furnished  its  name  to  the  decisive 
battle  which  gavte  Asia  to  Alexander,  lies  more  than  twenty 
miles  from  the  actual  scene  of  the  conflict.  The  little  village, 
then  named  Gaugamela,  is  close  to  the  spot  where  the  armies 
met,  but  has  ceded  the  honor  of  naming  the  battle  to  its  more 
euphonious  neighbor.  Gaugamela  is  situate  in  one  of  the 
wide  plains  that  lie  between  the  Tigris  and  the  mountains  of 
Kurdistan.  A  few  undulating  hillocks  diversify  the  surface  of 
this  sandy  tract;  but  the  ground  is  generally  level,  and  ad- 
mirably qualified  for  the  evolutions  of  cavalry,  and  also  calcu- 
lated to  give  the  larger  of  two  armies  the  full  advantage  of 
numerical  superiority.  The  Persian  king  (who,  before  he  came 
to  the  throne,  had  proved  his  personal  valor  as  a  soldier  and  his 
skill  as  a  general)  had  wisely  selected  this  region  for  the  third 
and  decisive  encounter  between  his  forces  and  the  invader.  The 
previous  defeats  of  his  troops,  however  severe  they  had  been, 
were  not  looked  on  as  irreparable.  The  Granicus  had  been 
fought  by  his  generals  rashly  and  without  mutual  concert ;  and, 
though  Darius  himself  had  commanded  and  been  beaten  at 
Issus,  that  defeat  might  be  attributed  to  the  disadvantageous 
nature  of  the  ground,  where,  cooped  up  between  the  moun- 
tains, the  river,  and  the  sea,  the  numbers  of  the  Persians  con- 
fused and  clogged  alike  the  general's  skill  and  the  soldiers' 
prowess,  and  their  very  strength  had  been  made  their  weak- 
ness. Here,  on  the  broad  plains  of  Kurdistan,  there  was  scope 
for  Asia's  largest  host  to  array  its  lines,  to  wheel,  to  skirmish, 
to  condense  or  expand  its  squadrons,  to  manoeuvre,  and  to 
charge  at  will.  Should  Alexander  and  his  scanty  band  dare  to 
plunge  into  that  living  sea  of  war,  their  destruction  seemed  in- 
evitable. 

Darius  felt,  however,  the  critical  nature  to  himself,  as  well  as 
to  his  adversary,  of  the  coming  encounter.  He  could  not  hope 
to  retrieve  the  consequences  of  a  third  overthrow.  The  great 
cities  of  Mesopotamia  and  Upper  Asia,  the  central  provinces 
of  the  Persian  empire,  were  certain  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  the 
victor.  Darius  knew  also  the  Asiatic  character  well  enough  to 
be  aware  how  it  yields  to  the  prestige  of  success  and  the  appar- 
ent career  of  destiny.  He  felt  that  the  diadem  was  now  either 
to  be  firmly  replaced  on  his  own  brow,  or  to  be  irrevocably  trans- 
ferred to  the  head  of  his  European  conqueror.  He,  therefore, 
during  the  long  interval  left  him  after  the  battle  of  Issus,  while 


THE   BATTLE   OF    ARBELA  65 

Alexander  was  subjugating  Syria  and  Egypt,  assiduously 
busied  himself  in  selecting  the  best  troops  which  his  vast  em- 
pire supplied,  and  in  training  his  varied  forces  to  act  together 
with  some  uniformity  of  discipline  and  system. 

The  hardy  mountaineers  of  Afghanistan,  Bokhara,  Khiva, 
and  Thibet  v/ere  then,  as  at  present,  far  different  to  the  gen- 
erality of  Asiatics  in  warlike  spirit  and  endurance.  From  these 
districts  Darius  collected  large  bodies  of  admirable  infantry ; 
and  the  countries  of  the  modern  Kurds  and  Turkomans  sup- 
plied, as  they  do  now,  squadrons  of  horsemen,  hardy,  skilful, 
bold,  and  trained  to  a  life  of  constant  activity  and  warfare.  It 
is  not  uninteresting  to  notice  that  the  ancestors  of  our  own  late 
enemies,  the  Sikhs,  served  as  allies  of  Darius  against  the  Mace- 
donians. They  are  spoken  of  in  Arrian  as  Indians  who  dwelt 
near  Bactria.  They  were  attached  to  the  troops  of  that  satrapy, 
and  their  cavalry  was  one  of  the  most  formidable  forces  in  the 
whole  Persian  army. 

Besides  these  picked  troops,  contingents  also  came  in  from 
the  numerous  other  provinces  that  yet  obeyed  the  Great  King. 
Altogether,  the  horse  are  said  to  have  been  forty  thousand, 
the  scythe-bearing  chariots  two  hundred,  and  the  armed  ele- 
phants fifteen  in  number.  The  amount  of  the  infantry  is  un- 
certain ;  but  the  knowledge  which  both  ancient  and  modern 
times  supply  of  the  usual  character  of  Oriental  armies,  and  of 
their  populations  of  camp-followers,  may  warrant  us  in  be- 
lieving that  many  myriads  were  prepared  to  fight,  or  to  en- 
cumber those  who  fought  for  the  last  Darius. 

The  position  of  the  Persian  king  near  Mesopotamia  was 
chosen  with  great  military  skill.  It  was  certain  that  Alex- 
ander, on  his  return  from  Egypt,  must  march  northward  along 
the  Syrian  coast  before  he  attacked  the  central  provinces  of  the 
Persian  empire.  A  direct  eastward  march  from  the  lower  part 
of  Palestine  across  the  great  Syrian  Desert  was  then,  as  ever, 
utterly  impracticable.  Marching  eastward  from  Syria,  Alex- 
ander would,  on  crossing  the  Euphrates,  arrive  at  the  vast 
Mesopotamian  plains.  The  wealthy  capitals  of  the  empire, 
Babylon,  Susa,  and  Persepolis,  would  then  lie  to  the  south ; 
and  if  he  marched  down  through  Mesopotamia  to  attack  them, 
Darius  might  reasonably  hope  to  follow  the  Macedonians  with 
his  immense  force  of  cavalry,  and,  without  even  risking  a 
pitched  battle,  to  harass  and  finally  overwhelm  them.  We  may 
5 


66  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

remember  that  three  centuries  afterwards  a  Roman  army  un- 
der Crassus  was  thus  actually  destroyed  by  the  Oriental  arch- 
ers and  horsemen  in  these  very  plains,*  and  that  the  ancestors 
of  the  Parthians  who  thus  vanquished  the  Roman  legions 
served  by  thousands  under  King  Darius.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
Alexander  should  defer  his  march  against  Babylon,  and  first 
seek  an  encounter  with  the  Persian  army,  the  country  on  each 
side  of  the  Tigris  in  this  latitude  was  highly  advantageous  for 
such  an  army  as  Darius  commanded,  and  he  had  close  in  his 
rear  the  mountainous  districts  of  Northern  Media,  where  he 
himself  had  in  early  life  been  satrap,  where  he  had  acquired 
reputation  as  a  soldier  and  a  general,  and  where  he  justly  ex- 
pected to  find  loyalty  to  his  person,  and  a  safe  refuge  in  case 
of  defeat,  t 

His  great  antagonist  came  on  across  the  Euphrates  against 
him,  at  the  head  of  an  army  which  Arrian,  copying  from  the 
journals  of  Macedonian  officers,  states  to  have  consisted  of 
forty  thousand  foot  and  seven  thousand  horse.  In  studying 
the  campaigns  of  Alexander,  we  possess  the  peculiar  advan- 
tage of  deriving  our  information  from  two  of  Alexander's  gen- 
erals of  division,  who  bore  an  important  part  in  all  his  enter- 
prises. Aristobulus  and  Ptolemy  (who  afterward  became  king 
of  Egypt)  kept  regular  journals  of  the  military  events  which 
they  witnessed,  and  these  journals  were  in  the  possession  of  Ar- 
rian when  he  drew  up  his  history  of  Alexander's  expedition. 
The  high  character  of  Arrian  for  integrity  makes  us  confident 
that  he  used  them  fairly,  and  his  comments  on  the  occasional 
discrepancies  between  the  two  Macedonian  narratives  prove 
that  he  used  them  sensibly.  He  frequently  quotes  the  very 
words  of  his  authorities  ;  and  his  history  thus  acquires  a  charm 
such  as  very  few  ancient  or  modern  military  narratives  possess. 
The  anecdotes  and  expressions  which  he  records  we  fairly  be- 
lieve to  be  genuine,  and  not  to  be  the  coinage  of  a  rhetorician, 
like  those  in  Curtius.    In  fact,  in  reading  Arrian,  we  read  Gen- 

*  See  Mitford. 

t  Mitford's  remarks  on  the  strategy  of  Darius  in  his  last  campaign 
are  very  just.  After  having  been  unduly  admired  as  an  historian,  Mitford 
is  now  unduly  neglected.  His  partiality  and  his  deficiency  in  scholar- 
ship have  been  exposed  sufficiently  to  make  him  no  longer  a  dangerous 
guide  as  to  Greek  politics,  while  the  clearness  and  brilliancy  of  his 
narrative,  and  the  strong  common  sense  of  his  remarks  (where  his 
party  prejudices  do  not  interfere),  must  always  make  his  volumes  valu- 
able as  well  as  entertaining. 


THE   BATTLE   OF    ARBELA  67 

eral  Aristobulus  and  General  Ptolemy  on  the  campaigns  of 
the  Macedonians,  and  it  is  like  reading  General  Jomini  or  Gen- 
eral Foy  on  the  campaigns  of  the  French. 

The  estimate  which  we  find  in  Arrian  of  the  strength  of 
Alexander's  army  seems  reasonable  enough,  when  we  take 
into  account  both  the  losses  which  he  had  sustained  and  the 
re-enforcements  which  he  had  received  since  he  left  Europe. 
Indeed,  to  Englishmen,  who  know  with  what  mere  handfuls 
of  men  our  own  generals  have,  at  Plassy,  at  Assaye,  at  Meeanee, 
and  other  Indian  battles,  routed  large  hosts  of  Asiatics,  the 
disparity  of  numbers  that  we  read  of  in  the  victories  won  by 
the  Macedonians  over  the  Persians  presents  nothing  incredi- 
ble. The  army  which  Alexander  now  led  was  wholly  com- 
posed of  veteran  troops  in  the  highest  possible  state  of  equip- 
ment and  discipline,  enthusiastically  devoted  to  their  leader, 
and  full  of  confidence  in  his  military  genius  and  his  victorious 
destiny. 

The  celebrated  Macedonian  phalanx  formed  the  main 
strength  of  his  infantry.  This  force  had  been  raised  and  or- 
ganized by  his  father  Philip,  who,  on  his  accession  to  the  Mace- 
donian throne,  needed  a  numerous  and  quickly-formed  army, 
and  who,  by  lengthening  the  spear  of  the  ordinary  Greek 
phalanx,  and  increasing  the  depth  of  the  files,  brought  the  tac- 
tic of  armed  masses  to  the  highest  extent  of  which  it  was  ca- 
pable with  such  materials  as  he  possessed.*  He  formed  his 
men  sixteen  deep,  and  placed  in  their  grasp  the  sarissa,  as  the 
Macedonian  pike  was  called,  which  was  four-and-twenty  feet 
in  length,  and  when  couched  for  action,  reached  eighteen  feet 
in  front  of  the  soldier  ;  so  that,  as  a  space  of  about  two  feet  was 
allowed  between  the  ranks,  the  spears  of  the  five  files  behind 
him  projected  in  front  of  each  front-rank  man.  The  pha- 
langite  soldier  was  fully  equipped  in  the  defensive  armor  of  the 
regular  Greek  infantry.  And  thus  the  phalanx  presented  a 
ponderous  and  bristling  mass,  which,  as  long  as  its  order  was 
kept  compact,  was  sure  to  bear  down  all  opposition.  The  de- 
fects of  such  an  organization  are  obvious,  and  were  proved 
in  after  years,  when  the  Macedonians  were  opposed  to  the 
Roman  legions.  But  it  is  clear  that  under  Alexander  the 
phalanx  was  not  the  cumbrous,  unwieldy  body  which  it  was  at 
Cynoscephalse  and  Pydna.  His  men  were  veterans;  and  he 
*  See  Niebuhr's  "  Hist,  of  Rome,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  466. 


68  DECISIVE   BATTLES 

could  obtain  from  them  an  accuracy  of  movement  and  steadi- 
ness of  evolution  such  as  probably  the  recruits  of  his  father 
would  only  have  floundered  in  attempting,  and  such  as  cer- 
tainly were  impracticable  in  the  phalanx  when  handled  by  his 
successors,  especially  as  under  them  it  ceased  to  be  a  standing 
force,  and  became  only  a  militia. f  Under  Alexander  the  pha- 
lanx consisted  of  an  aggregate  of  eighteen  thousand  men, 
who  were  divided  into  six  brigades  of  three  thousand  each. 
These  were  again  subdivided  into  regiments  and  companies ; 
and  the  men  were  carefully  trained  to  wheel,  to  face  about,  to 
take  more  ground,  or  to  close  up,  as  the  emergencies  of  the 
battle  required.  Alexander  also  arrayed  troops  armed  in  a 
different  manner  in  the  intervals  of  the  regiments  of  his 
phalangites,  who  could  prevent  their  line  from  being  pierced 
and  their  companies  taken  in  flank,  when  the  nature  of  the 
ground  prevented  a  close  formation,  and  who  could  be  with- 
drawn when  a  favorable  opportunity  arrived  for  closing  up  the 
phalanx  or  any  of  its  brigades  for  a  charge,  or  when  it  was 
necessary  to  prepare  to  receive  cavalry. 

Besides  the  phalanx,  Alexander  had  a  considerable  force  of 
infantry  who  were  called  shield-bearers:  they  were  not  so 
heavily  armed  as  the  phalangites,  or  as  was  the  case  with  the 
Greek  regular  infantry  in  general,  but  they  were  equipped  for 
close  fight  as  well  as  for  skirmishing,  and  were  far  superior  to 
the  ordinary  irregular  troops  of  Greek  warfare.  They  were 
about  six  thousand  strong.  Besides  these,  he  had  several 
bodies  of  Greek  regular  infantry ;  and  he  had  archers,  slingers, 
and  javelin-men,  who  fought  also  with  broadsword  and  target, 
and  who  were  principally  supplied  him  by  the  highlanders  of 
Illyria  and  Thracia.  The  main  strength  of  his  cavalry  con- 
sisted in  two  chosen  regiments  of  cuirassiers,  one  Macedonian 
and  one  Thessalian,  each  of  which  was  about  fifteen  hundred 
strong.  They  were  provided  with  long  lances  and  heavy 
swords,  and  horse  as  well  as  man  was  fully  equipped  with  de- 
fensive armor.  Other  regiments  of  regular  cavalry  were  less 
heavily  armed,  and  there  were  several  bodies  of  light  horse- 
men, whom  Alexander's  conquests  in  Egypt  and  Syria  had  en- 
abled him  to  mount  superbly. 

A  little  before  the  end  of  August,  Alexander  crossed  the 
Euphrates  at  Thapsacus,  a  small  corps  of  Persian  cavalry  un- 
t  See  Niebnhr. 


THE   BATTLE   OF    ARBELA  69 

der  Mazseus  retiring  before  him.  Alexander  was  too  prudent 
to  march  down  through  the  Mesopotamian  deserts,  and  con- 
tinued to  advance  eastward  with  the  intention  of  passing  the 
Tigris,  and  then,  if  he  was  unable  to  find  Darius  and  bring  him 
to  action,  of  marching  southward  on  the  left  side  of  that  river 
along  the  skirts  of  a  mountainous  district  where  his  men  would 
suffer  less  from  heat  and  thirst,  and  where  provisions  would  be 
more  abundant. 

Darius,  finding  that  his  adversary  was  not  to  be  enticed  into 
the  march  through  Mesopotamia  against  his  capital,  deter- 
mined to  remain  on  the  battle-ground,  which  he  had  chosen 
on  the  left  of  the  Tigris  ;  where,  if  his  enemy  met  a  defeat  or  a 
check,  the  destruction  of  the  invaders  would  be  certain  with 
two  such  rivers  as  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  in  their  rear. 
The  Persian  king  availed  himself  to  the  utmost  of  every  ad- 
vantage in  his  power.  He  caused  a  large  space  of  ground  to 
be  carefully  levelled  for  the  operation  of  his  scythe-armed 
chariots ;  and  he  deposited  his  military  stores  in  the  strong 
town  of  Arbela,  about  twenty  miles  in  his  rear.  The  rhetori- 
cians of  after  ages  have  loved  to  describe  Darius  Codomanus  as 
a  second  Xerxes  in  ostentation  and  imbecility ;  but  a  fair  ex- 
amination of  his  generalship  in  this  his  last  campaign  shows 
that  he  was  worthy  of  bearing  the  same  name  as  his  great  pre- 
decessor, the  royal  son  of  Hystaspes. 

On  learning  that  Darius  was  with  a  large  army  on  the  left 
of  the  Tigris,  Alexander  hurried  forward  and  crossed  that  river 
without  opposition.  He  was  at  first  unable  to  procure  any  cer- 
tain intelligence  of  the  precise  position  of  the  enemy,  and  after 
giving  his  army  a  short  interval  of  rest,  he  marched  for  four 
days  down  the  left  bank  of  the  river.  A  moralist  may  pause 
upon  the  fact  that  Alexander  must  in  this  march  have  passed 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  ruins  of  Nineveh,  the  great  city  of  the 
primeval  conquerors  of  the  human  race.  Neither  the  Mace- 
donian king  nor  any  of  his  followers  knew  what  those  vast 
mounds  had  once  been.  They  had  already  sunk  into  utter  de- 
struction ;  and  it  is  only  within  the  last  few  years  that  the  intel- 
lectual energy  of  one  of  our  own  countrymen  has  rescued  Nine- 
veh from  its  long  centuries  of  oblivion.* 

On  the  fourth  day  of  Alexander's  southward  march,  his  ad- 

*  See  Layard's  "  Nineveh,"  and  see  Vaux's  "  Nineveh  and  Persep- 
olis,"  p.  16. 


70  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

vanced  guard  reported  that  a  body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry  was 
in  sight.  He  instantly  formed  his  army  in  order  for  battle,  and 
directing  them  to  advance  steadily,  he  rode  forward  at  the  head 
of  some  squadrons  of  cavalry,  and  charged  the  Persian  horse, 
whom  he  found  before  him.  This  was  a  mere  reconnoitring 
party,  and  they  broke  and  fled  immediately;  but  the  Mace- 
donians made  some  prisoners,  and  from  them  Alexander  found 
that  Darius  was  posted  only  a  few  miles  off,  and  learned  the 
strength  of  the  army  that  he  had  with  him.  On  receiving  this 
news  Alexander  halted,  and  gave  his  men  repose  for  four  days, 
so  that  they  should  go  into  action  fresh  and  vigorous.  He  also 
fortified  his  camp  and  deposited  in  it  all  his  military  stores,  and 
all  his  sick  and  disabled  soldiers,  intending  to  advance  upon 
the  enemy  with  the  serviceable  part  of  his  army  perfectly  un- 
encumbered. After  this  halt,  he  moved  forward,  while  it  was 
yet  dark,  with  the  intention  of  reaching  the  enemy,  and  attack- 
ing them  at  break  of  day.  About  half  way  between  the  camps 
there  were  some  undulations  of  the  ground,  which  concealed 
the  two  armies  from  each  other's  view ;  but,  on  Alexander 
arriving  at  their  summit,  he  saw,  by  the  early  light,  the  Persian 
host  arrayed  before  him,  and  he  probably  also  observed  traces 
of  some  engineering  operation  having  been  carried  on  along 
part  of  the  ground  in  front  of  them.  Not  knowing  that  these 
marks  had  been  caused  by  the  Persians  having  levelled  the 
ground  for  the  free  use  of  their  war-chariots,  Alexander  sus- 
pected that  hidden  pitfalls  had  been  prepared  with  a  view  of 
disordering  the  approach  of  his  cavalry.  He  summoned  a 
council  of  war  forthwith.  Some  of  the  officers  were  for  attack- 
ing instantly,  at  all  hazards ;  but  the  more  prudent  opinion  of 
Parmenio  prevailed,  and  it  was  determined  not  to  advance 
further  till  the  battle-ground  had  been  carefully  surveyed. 

Alexander  halted  his  army  on  the  heights,  and,  taking  with 
him  some  light-armed  infantry  and  some  cavalry,  he  passed 
part  of  the  day  in  reconnoitring  the  enemy,  and  observing  the 
nature  of  the  ground  which  he  had  to  fight  on.  Darius  wisely 
refrained  from  moving  from  his  position  to  attack  the  Mace- 
donians on  the  eminences  which  they  occupied,  and  the  two 
armies  remained  until  night  without  molesting  each  other. 
On  Alexander's  return  to  his  headquarters,  he  summoned  his 
generals  and  superior  officers  together,  and  telling  them  that 
he  knew  well  that  tJicir  zeal  wanted  no  exhortation,  he  be- 


THE   BATTLE   OF   ARBELA  71 

soug-ht  them  to  do  their  utmost  in  encouraging  and  instructing 
those  whom  each  commanded,  to  do  their  best  in  the  next  day's 
battle.  They  were  to  remind  them  that  they  were  now  not  go- 
ing to  fight  for  a  province  as  they  had  hitherto  fought,  but  they 
were  about  to  decide  by  their  swords  the  dominion  of  all  Asia- 
Each  officer  ought  to  impress  this  upon  his  subalterns,  and 
they  should  urge  it  on  their  men.  Their  natural  courage  re- 
quired no  long  words  to  excite  its  ardor ;  but  they  should  be 
reminded  of  the  paramount  importance  of  steadiness  in  action. 
The  silence  in  the  ranks  must  be  unbroken  as  long  as  silence 
was  proper ;  but  when  the  time  came  for  the  charge,  the  shout 
and  the  cheer  must  be  full  of  terror  for  the  foe.  The  officers 
were  to  be  alert  in  receiving  and  communicating  orders ;  and 
every  one  was  to  act  as  if  he  felt  that  the  whole  result  of  the 
battle  depended  on  his  own  single  good  conduct. 

Having  thus  briefly  instructed  his  generals,  Alexander  or- 
dered that  the  army  should  sup,  and  take  their  rest  for  the  night. 

Darkness  had  closed  over  the  tents  of  the  Macedonians, 
when  Alexander's  veteran  general,  Parmenio,  came  to  him, 
and  proposed  that  they  should  make  a  night  attack  on  the  Per- 
sians. The  king  is  said  to  have  answered  that  he  scorned  to 
filch  a  victory,  and  that  Alexander  must  conquer  openly  and 
fairly.  Arrian  justly  remarks  that  Alexander's  resolution  was 
as  wise  as  it  was  spirited.  Besides  the  confusion  and  uncer- 
tainty which  are  inseparable  from  night  engagements,  the  value 
of  Alexander's  victory  would  have  been  impaired,  if  gained 
under  circumstances  which  might  supply  the  enemy  with  any 
excuse  for  his  defeat,  and  encouraged  him  to  renew  the  con- 
test. It  was  necessary  for  Alexander  not  only  to  beat  Darius, 
but  to  gain  such  a  victory  as  should  leave  his  rival  without 
apology  and  without  hope  of  recovery. 

The  Persians,  in  fact,  expected,  and  were  prepared  to  meet, 
a  night  attack.  Such  was  the  apprehension  that  Darius  enter- 
tained of  it,  that  he  formed  his  troops  at  evening  in  order  of 
battle,  and  kept  them  under  arms  all  night.  The  effect  of  this 
was,  that  the  morning  found  them  jaded  and  dispirited,  while 
it  brought  their  adversaries  all  fresh  and  vigorous  against 
them. 

The  written  order  of  battle  which  Darius  himself  caused  to 
be  drawn  up,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Macedonians  after  the 
engagement,  and  Aristobulus  copied  it  into  his  journal.     We 


72  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

thus  possess,  through  Arrian,  unusually  authentic  information 
as  to  the  composition  and  arrangement  of  the  Persian  army. 
On  the  extreme  left  were  the  Bactrian,  Daan,  and  Arachosian 
cavalry.  Next  to  these  Darius  placed  the  troops  from  Persia 
proper,  both  horse  and  foot.  Ther  ::ame  the  Susians,  and  next 
to  these  the  Cadusians.  These  feces  made  up  the  left  wing. 
Darius'  own  station  was  in  the  centre.  This  was  composed  of 
the  Indians,  the  Carians,  the  Mardian  archers,  and  the  divi- 
sion of  Persians  who  were  distinguished  by  the  golden  apples 
that  formed  the  knobs  of  their  spears.  Here  also  were  sta- 
tioned the  body-guard  of  the  Persian  nobility.  Besides  these, 
there  were,  in  the  centre,  formed  in  deep  order,  the  Uxian  and 
Babylonian  troops,  and  the  soldiers  from  the  Red  Sea.  The 
brigade  of  Greek  mercenaries  whom  Darius  had  in  his  service, 
and  who  alone  were  considered  fit  to  stand  the  charge  of  the 
Macedonian  phalanx,  was  drawn  up  on  either  side  of  the  royal 
chariot.  The  right  wing  was  composed  of  the  Coelosyrians 
and  Mesopotamians,  the  Medes,  the  Parthians,  the  Sacians,  the 
Tapurians,  Hyrcanians,  Albanians,  and  Sacesinse.  In  advance 
of  the  line  on  the  left  wing  were  placed  the  Scythian  cavalry, 
with  a  thousand  of  the  Bactrian  horse,  and  a  hundred  scythe- 
armed  chariots.  The  elephants  and  fifty  scythe-armed  chariots 
were  ranged  in  front  of  the  centre ;  and  fifty  more  chariots, 
with  the  Armenian  and  Cappadocian  cavalry,  were  drawn  up  in 
advance  of  the  right  wing. 

Thus  arrayed,  the  great  host  of  King  Darius  passed  the 
night,  that  to  many  thousands  of  them  was  the  last  of  their 
existence.  The  morning  of  the  first  of  October,*  two  thou- 
sand one  hundred  and  eighty-two  years  ago,  dawned  slowly  to 
their  wearied  watching,  and  they  could  hear  the  note  of  the 
Macedonian  trumpet  sounding  to  arms,  and  could  see  King 
Alexander's  forces  descend  from  their  tents  on  the  heights, 
and  form  in  order  of  battle  on  the  plain. 

There  was  deep  need  of  skill,  as  well  as  of  valor,  on  Alex- 
ander's side;  and  few  battle-fields  have  witnessed  more  con- 
summate generalship  than  was  now  displayed  by  the  Mace- 
donian king.  There  were  no  natural  barriers  by  which  he  could 
protect  his  flanks ;   and  not  only  was  he  certain  to  be  over- 

*  See  Clinton's  "  Fasti  HcUenici."  The  battle  was  fought  eleven  days 
after  an  eclipse  of  the  moon,  which  gives  the  means  of  fixing  the  pre- 
cise date. 


THE   BATTLE   OF    ARBELA  73 

lapped  on  either  wing  by  the  vast  lines  of  the  Persian  army, 
but  there  was  imminent  risk  of  their  circling  round  him,  and 
charging  him  in  the  rear,  while  he  advanced  against  their  cen- 
tre. He  formed,  therefore,  a  second  or  reserve  line,  which  was 
to  wheel  round,  if  required,  or  to  detach  troops  to  either  flank, 
as  the  enemy's  movements  might  necessitate;  and  thus,  with 
their  whole  army  ready  at  any  moment  to  be  thrown  into  one 
vast  hollow  square,  the  Macedonians  advanced  in  two  lines 
against  the  enemy,  Alexander  himself  leading  on  the  right 
wing,  and  the  renowned  phalanx  forming  the  centre,  while 
Parmenio  commanded  on  the  left. 

Such  was  the  general  nature  of  the  disposition  which  Alex- 
ander made  of  his  army.  But  we  have  in  Arrian  the  details  of 
the  position  of  each  brigade  and  regiment ;  and  as  we  know 
that  these  details  were  taken  from  the  journals  of  Macedonian 
generals,  it  is  interesting  to  examine  them,  and  to  read  the 
names  and  stations  of  King  Alexander's  generals  and  colonels 
in  this,  the  greatest  of  his  battles. 

The  eight  regiments  of  the  royal  horse-guards  formed  the 
right  of  Alexander's  line.  Their  colonels  were  Cleitus  (whose 
regiment  was  on  the  extreme  right,  the  post  of  peculiar  dan- 
ger), Glaucias,  Ariston,  Sopolis,  Heracleides,  Demetrias,  Mel- 
eager,  and  Hegelochus.  Philotas  was  general  of  the  whole 
division.  Then  came  the  shield-bearing  infantry :  Nicanor 
was  their  general.  Then  came  the  phalanx  in  six  brigades. 
Coenus'  brigade  was  on  the  right,  and  nearest  to  the  shield- 
bearers  ;  next  to  this  stood  the  brigade  of  Perdiccas,  then 
Meleager's,  then  Polysperchon's ;  and  then  the  brigade  of 
Amynias,  but  which  was  now  commanded  by  Simmias,  as 
Amynias  had  been  sent  to  Macedonia  to  levy  recruits.  Then 
came  the  infantry  of  the  left  wing,  under  the  command  of 
Craterus.  Next  to  Craterus'  infantry  were  placed  the  cavalry 
regiments  of  the  allies,  with  Eriguius  for  their  general.  The 
Thessalian  cavalry,  commanded  by  Philippus,  were  next,  and 
held  the  extreme  left  of  the  whole  army.  The  whole  left  wing 
was  intrusted  to  the  command  of  Parmenio,  who  had  round  his 
person  the  Pharsalian  regiment  of  cavalry,  which  was  the 
strongest  and  best  of  all  the  Thessalian  horse  regiments. 

The  centre  of  the  second  line  was  occupied  by  a  body  of 
phalangite  infantry,  formed  of  companies  which  were  drafted 
for  this  purpose  from  each  of  the  brigades  of  their  phalanx. 


74 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


The  officers  in  command  of  this  corps  were  ordered  to  be  ready 
to  face  about,  if  the  enemy  should  succeed  in  gaining  the  rear 
of  the  army.  On  the  right  of  this  reserve  of  infantry,  in  the 
second  Hne,  and  behind  the  royal  horse-guards,  Alexander 
placed  half  the  Agrian  light-armed  infantry  under  Attains,  and 
with  them  Brison's  body  of  Macedonian  archers  and  Cleander's 
regiment  of  foot.  He  also  placed  in  this  part  of  his  army 
Menidas'  squadron  of  calvary,  and  Aretes'  and  Ariston's  light 
horse.  Menidas  was  ordered  to  watch  if  the  enemy's  cavalry 
tried  to  turn  their  flank,  and,  if  they  did  so,  to  charge  them  be- 
fore they  wheeled  completely  round,  and  so  take  them  in  flank 
themselves.  A  similar  force  was  arranged  on  the  left  of  the 
second  line  for  the  same  purpose.  The  Thracian  infantry  of 
Sitalces  were  placed  there,  and  Coeranus'  regiment  of  the 
cavalry  of  the  Greek  allies,  and  Agathon's  troops  of  the  Odry- 
sian  irregular  horse.  The  extreme  left  of  the  second  line  in 
this  quarter  was  held  by  Andromachus'  cavalry.  A  division  of 
Thracian  infantry  was  left  in  guard  of  the  camp.  In  advance 
of  the  right  wing  and  centre  was  scattered  a  number  of  light- 
armed  troops,  of  javelin-men  and  bow-men,  with  the  intention 
of  warding  off  the  charge  of  the  armed  chariots.* 

Conspicuous  by  the  brilliancy  of  his  armor,  and  by  the 
chosen  band  of  officers  who  were  round  his  person,  Alexander 
took  his  own  station,  as  his  custom  was,  in  the  right  wing,  at 
the  head  of  his  cavalry ;  and  when  all  the  arrangements  for  the 
battle  were  complete,  and  his  generals  were  fully  instructed 
how  to  act  in  each  probable  emergency,  he  began  to  lead  his 
men  toward  the  enemy. 

It  was  ever  his  custom  to  expose  his  life  freely  in  battle,  and 
to  emulate  the  personal  prowess  of  his  great  ancestor,  Achilles. 
Perhaps,  in  the  bold  enterprise  of  conquering  Persia,  it  was 
politic  for  Alexander  to  raise  his  army's  daring  to  the  utmost 
by  the  example  of  his  own  heroic  valor ;  and,  in  his  subsequent 
campaigns,  the  love  of  the  excitement,  of  "  the  raptures  of  the 
strife,"  may  have  made  him,  like  Murat,  continue  from  choice 
a  custom  which  he  commenced  from  duty.  But  he  never  suf- 
fered the  ardor  of  the  soldier  to  make  him  lose  the  coolness  of 

*  Kleber's  arrangement  of  his  troops  at  the  battle  of  Heliopolis,  where, 
with  ten  thousand  Europeans,  he  had  to  encounter  eighty  thousand 
Asiatics  in  an  open  plain,  is  worth  comparing  with  Alexander's  tactics 
at  Arbela.    See  Thiers'  "  Histoire  du  Consulat,"  &c.,  vol.  ii.,  livre  v. 


THE   BATTLE   OF   ARBELA  75 

the  general,  and  at  Arbela,  in  particular,  he  showed  that  he 
could  act  up  to  his  favorite  Homeric  maxim  of  being 

'AfjLffiOTcpov,  /SacnXeiJS  t  ayaSo^  Kparcpos  t'  alxjxrp-i^';. 

Great  reliance  had  been  placed  by  the  Persian  king  on  the 
effects  of  the  scythe-bearing  chariots.  It  was  designed  to 
launch  these  against  the  Macedonian  phalanx,  and  to  follow 
them  up  by  a  heavy  charge  of  cavalry,  which,  it  was  hoped, 
would  find  the  ranks  of  the  spearmen  disordered  by  the  rush 
of  the  chariots,  and  easily  destroy  this  most  formidable  part  of 
Alexander's  force.  In  front,  therefore,  of  the  Persian  centre, 
where  Darius  took  his  station,  and  which  it  was  supposed  that 
the  phalanx  would  attack,  the  ground  had  been  carefully  lev- 
elled and  smoothed,  so  as  to  allow  the  chariots  to  charge  over 
it  with  their  full  sweep  and  speed.  As  the  Macedonian  army 
approached  the  Persian,  Alexander  found  that  the  front  of  his 
whole  line  barely  equalled  the  front  of  the  Persian  centre,  so 
that  he  was  outflanked  on  his  right  by  the  entire  left  wing  of 
the  enemy,  and  by  their  entire  right  wing  on  his  left.  His  tac- 
tics were  to  assail  some  one  point  of  the  hostile  army,  and  gain 
a  decisive  advantage,  while  he  refused,  as  far  as  possible,  the 
encounter  along  the  rest  of  the  line.  He  therefore  inclined  his 
order  of  march  to  the  right,  so  as  to  enable  his  right  wing  and 
centre  to  come  into  collision  with  the  enemy  on  as  favorable 
terms  as  possible,  although  the  manoeuvre  might  in  some  re- 
spect compromise  his  left. 

The  effect  of  this  oblique  movement  was  to  bring  the 
phalanx  and  his  own  wing  nearly  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
ground  which  the  Persians  had  prepared  for  the  operations  of 
the  chariots  ;  and  Darius,  fearing  to  lose  the  benefit  of  this  arm 
against  the  most  important  parts  of  the  Macedonian  force, 
ordered  the  Scythian  and  Bactrian  cavalry,  who  were  drawn  up 
in  advance  on  his  extreme  left,  to  charge  round  upon  Alex- 
ander's right  wing,  and  check  its  further  lateral  progress. 
Against  these  assailants  Alexander  sent  from  his  second  line 
Menidas'  cavalry.  As  these  proved  too  few  to  make  head 
against  the  enemy,  he  ordered  Ariston  also  from  the  second 
line  with  his  right  horse,  and  Cleander  with  his  foot,  in  sup- 
port of  Menidas.  The  Bactrians  and  Scythians  now  began  to 
give  way;  but  Darius  reinforced  them  by  the  mass  of  Bac- 


^6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

trian  cavalry  from  his  main  line,  and  an  obstinate  cavalry  fight 
now  took  place.  The  Bactrians  and  Scythians  were  numerous, 
and  were  better  armed  than  the  horsemen  under  Menidas  and 
Ariston ;  and  the  loss  at  first  was  heaviest  on  the  Macedonian 
side.  But  still  the  European  cavalry  stood  the  charge  of  the 
Asiatics,  and  at  last,  by  their  superior  discipline,  and  by  acting 
in  squadrons  that  supported  each  other,*  instead  of  fighting 
in  a  confused  mass  like  the  barbarians,  the  Macedonians  broke 
their  adversaries,  and  drove  them  off  the  field. 

Darius  now  directed  the  scythe-armed  chariots  to  be  driven 
against  Alexander's  horse-guards  and  the  phalanx,  and  these 
formidable  vehicles  were  accordingly  sent  rattling  across  the 
plain,  against  the  Macedonian  line.  When  we  remember  the 
alarm  which  the  war-chariots  of  the  Britons  created  among 
Caesar's  legions,  we  shall  not  be  prone  to  deride  this  arm  of 
ancient  warfare  as  always  useless.  The  object  of  the  chariots 
was  to  create  unsteadiness  in  the  ranks  against  which  they  were 
driven,  and  squadrons  of  cavalry  followed  close  upon  them  to 
profit  by  such  disorder.  But  the  Asiatic  chariots  were  rendered 
ineffective  at  Arbela  by  the  light-armed  troops,  whom  Alexan- 
der had  specially  appointed  for  the  service,  and  who,  wounding 
the  horses  and  drivers  with  their  missile  weapons,  and  run- 
ning alongside  so  as  to  cut  the  traces  or  seize  the  reins,  marred 
the  intended  charge ;  and  the  few  chariots  that  reached  the 
phalanx  passed  harmlessly  through  the  intervals  which  the 
spearmen  opened  for  them,  and  were  easily  captured  in  the  rear. 

A  mass  of  the  Asiatic  cavalry  was  now,  for  the  second  time, 
collected  against  Alexander's  extreme  right,  and  moved  round 

*  'AAAa  (col  Sis  ras  vpotrfioXhs  avrwv  €5«x'"''''0  ol  'M.aKeS6ves,  /col  Pia  kut  f\o  irpoff- 
nlvTovTfs  f^w^ovf  iK  T^j  Ta|«£os. — Arrian,  lib.  iii.,  c.  13. 

The  best  explanation  of  this  may  be  found  in  Napoleon's  account  of 
the  cavalry  fights  between  the  French  and  the  Mamelukes.  "  Two 
Mamelukes  were  able  to  make  head  against  three  Frenchmen,  because 
they  were  better  armed,  better  mounted,  and  better  trained  ;  they  had 
two  pair  of  pistols,  a  blunderbuss,  a  carabine,  a  helmet  with  a  visor, 
and  a  coat  of  mail ;  they  had  several  horses,  and  several  attendants  on 
foot.  One  hundred  cuirassiers,  however,  were  not  afraid  of  one  hun- 
dred Mamelukes;  three  hundred  could  beat  an  equal  number,  and  one 
thousand  could  easily  put  to  the  rout  fifteen  hundred,  so  great  is  the  in- 
fluence of  tactics,  order,  and  evolutions !  Leclerc  and  Lasalle  presented 
their  men  to  the  Mamelukes  in  several  lines.  When  the  Arabs  were 
on  the  point  of  overwhelming  the  first,  the  second  came  to  its  assistance 
on  the  right  and  left ;  the  Mamelukes  then  halted  and  wheeled,  in  order 
to  turn  the  wings  of  this  new  line ;  this  moment  was  always  seized  upon 
^?TT-  ^"^^^  ^^^^^>  ^"d  they  were  uniformly  broken." — Montholon's 
"History  of  Captivity  of  Napoleon,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  70. 


THE   BATTLE    OF   ARBELA  77 

it,  with  the  view  of  gaining  the  flank  of  his  army.  At  the  critical 
moment,  when  their  own  flanks  were  exposed  by  this  evolution, 
Aretes  dashed  on  the  Persian  squadrons  with  his  horsemen 
from  Alexander's  second  line.  While  Alexander  thus  met  and 
baffled  all  the  flanking  attacks  of  the  enemy  with  troops 
brought  up  from  his  second  line,  he  kept  his  own  horse-guards 
and  the  rest  of  the  front  line  of  his  wing  fresh,  and  ready  to  take 
advantage  of  the  first  opportunity  for  striking  a  decisive  blow. 
This  soon  came.  A  large  body  of  horse,  who  were  posted  on 
the  Persian  left  wing  nearest  to  the  centre,  quitted  their  station, 
and  rode  off  to  help  their  comrades  in  the  cavalry  fight,  that 
still  was  going  on  at  the  extreme  right  of  Alexander's  wing 
against  the  detachments  from  his  second  line.  This  made  a 
huge  gap  in  the  Persian  array,  and  into  this  space  Alexander 
instantly  charged  with  his  guard  and  all  the  cavalry  of  his 
wing;  and  then  pressing  toward  his  left,  he  soon  began  to 
make  havoc  in  the  left  flank  of  the  Persian  centre.  The  shield- 
bearing  infantry  now  charged  also  among  the  reeling  masses 
of  the  Asiatics ;  and  five  of  the  brigades  of  the  phalanx,  with 
the  irresistible  might  of  their  sarissas,  bore  down  the  Greek 
mercenaries  of  Darius,  and  dug  their  way  through  the  Per- 
sian centre.  In  the  early  part  of  the  battle  Darius  had  showed 
skill  and  energy ;  and  he  now,  for  some  time,  encouraged  his 
men,  by  voice  and  example,  to  keep  firm.  But  the  lances  of 
Alexander's  cavalry  and  the  pikes  of  the  phalanx  now  pressed 
nearer  and  nearer  to  him.  His  charioteer  was  struck  down 
by  a  javelin  at  his  side;  and  at  last  Darius'  nerve  failed  him, 
and,  descending  from  his  chariot,  he  mounted  on  a  fleet  horse 
and  galloped  from  the  plain,  regardless  of  the  state  of  the  battle 
in  other  parts  of  the  field,  where  matters  were  going  on  much 
more  favorably  for  his  cause,  and  where  his  presence  might 
have  done  much  toward  gaining  a  victory. 

Alexander's  operations  with  his  right  and  centre  had  exposed 
his  left  to  an  immensely  preponderating  force  of  the  enemy. 
Parmenio  kept  out  of  action  as  long  as  possible ;  but  Mazseus, 
who  commanded  the  Persian  right  wing,  advanced  against  him, 
completely  outflanked  him,  and  pressed  him  severely  with  re- 
iterated charges  by  superior  numbers.  Seeing  the  distress  of 
Parmenio's  wing,  Simmias,  who  commanded  the  sixth  brigade 
of  the  phalanx,  which  was  next  to  the  left  wing,  did  not  advance 
v.-ith  the  other  brigades  in  the  great  charge  upon  the  Persian 


78  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

centre,  but  kept  back  to  cover  Parmenio's  troops  on  their  right 
flank,  as  otherwise  they  would  have  been  completely  sur- 
rounded and  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  Macedonian  army. 
By  so  doing-,  Simmias  had  unavoidably  opened  a  gap  in  the 
Macedonian  left  centre;  and  a  large  column  of  Indian  and 
Persian  horse,  from  the  Persian  right  centre,  had  galloped  for- 
ward through  this  interval,  and  right  through  the  troops  of 
the  Macedonian  second  line.  Instead  of  then  wheeling  round 
upon  Parmenio,  or  upon  the  rear  of  Alexander's  conquering 
wing,  the  Indian  and  Persian  cavalry  rode  straight  on  to  the 
Macedonian  camp,  overpowered  the  Thracians  who  were  left 
in  charge  of  it,  and  began  to  plunder.  This  was  stopped  by  the 
phalangite  troops  of  the  second  line,  who,  after  the  enemy's 
horsemen  had  rushed  by  them,  faced  about,  counter-marched 
upon  the  camp,  killed  many  of  the  Indians  and  Persians  in  the 
act  of  plundering,  and  forced  the  rest  to  ride  off  again.  Just 
at  this  crisis,  Alexander  had  been  recalled  from  his  pursuit  of 
Darius  by  tidings  of  the  distress  of  Parmenio  and  of  his  inabil- 
ity to  bear  up  any  longer  against  the  hot  attacks  of  Mazseus. 
Taking  his  horse-guards  with  him,  Alexander  rode  toward  the 
part  of  the  field  where  his  left  wing  was  fighting ;  but  on  his 
way  thither  he  encountered  the  Persian  and  Indian  cavalry,  on 
their  return  from  his  camp. 

These  men  now  saw  that  their  only  chance  of  safety  was  to 
cut  their  way  through,  and  in  one  huge  column  they  charged 
desperately  upon  the  Macedonian  regiments.  There  was  here 
a  close  hand-to-hand  fight,  which  lasted  some  time,  and  sixty 
of  the  royal  horse-guards  fell,  and  three  generals,  who  fought 
close  to  Alexander's  side,  were  wounded.  At  length  the  Mace- 
donian discipline  and  valor  again  prevailed,  and  a  large  num- 
ber of  the  Persian  and  Indian  horsemen  were  cut  down,  some 
few  only  succeeding  in  breaking  through  and  riding  away.  Re- 
lieved of  these  obstinate  enemies,  Alexander  again  formed  his 
regiments  of  horse-guards,  and  led  them  toward  Parmenio; 
but  by  this  time  that  general  also  was  victorious.  Probably 
the  news  of  Darius'  flight  had  reached  Mazaeus,  and  had 
damped  the  ardor  of  the  Persian  right  wing,  while  the  tidings 
of  their  comrades'  success  must  have  proportionally  encour- 
aged the  Macedonian  forces  under  Parmenio.  His  Thessalian 
cavalry  particularly  distinguished  themselves  by  their  gallantry 
and  persevering  good  conduct;  and  by  the  time  that  Alex- 


THE   BATTLE    OF    ARBELA  79 

ander  had  ridden  up  to  Parmenio,  the  whole  Persian  army  was 
in  full  flight  from  the  field. 

It  was  of  the  deepest  importance  to  Alexander  to  secure 
the  person  of  Darius,  and  he  now  urged  on  the  pursuit.  The 
River  Lycus  was  between  the  field  of  battle  and  the  city  of 
Arbela,  whither  the  fugitives  directed  their  course,  and  the 
passage  of  this  river  was  even  more  destructive  to  the  Persians 
than  the  swords  and  spears  of  the  Macedonians  had  been  in  the 
engagement.*  The  narrow  bridge  was  soon  choked  up  by  the 
flying  thousands  who  rushed  toward  it,  and  vast  numbers  of 
the  Persians  threw  themselves,  or  were  hurried  by  others,  into 
the  rapid  stream,  and  perished  in  its  waters.  Darius  had 
crossed  it,  and  had  ridden  on  through  Arbela  without  halt- 
ing. Alexander  reached  the  city  on  the  next  day,  and  made 
himself  master  of  all  Darius'  treasure  and  stores  ;  but  the  Per- 
sian king,  unfortunately  for  himself,  had  fled  too  fast  for  his 
conqueror,  but  had  only  escaped  to  perish  by  the  treachery  of 
his  Bactrian  satrap,  Bessus. 

A  few  days  after  the  battle  Alexander  entered  Babylon,  "  the 
oldest  seat  of  earthly  empire  "  then  in  existence,  as  its  acknowl- 
edged lord  and  master.  There  were  yet  some  campaigns  of 
his  brief  and  bright  career  to  be  accomplished.  Central  Asia 
was  yet  to  witness  the  march  of  his  phalanx.  He  was  yet  to 
effect  that  conquest  of  Afghanistan  in  which  England  since 
has  failed.  His  generalship,  as  well  as  his  valor,  was  yet  to  be 
signalized  on  the  banks  of  the  Hydaspes  and  the  field  of 
Chillianwallah ;  and  he  was  yet  to  precede  the  Queen  of  Eng- 
land in  annexing  the  Punjaub  to  the  dominions  of  a  European 
sovereign.  But  the  crisis  of  his  career  was  reached ;  the  great 
object  of  his  mission  was  accomplished ;  and  the  ancient  Per- 
sian empire,  which  once  menaced  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
with  subjection,  was  irreparably  crushed  when  Alexander  had 
won  his  crowning  victory  at  Arbela. 

*  I  purposely  omit  any  statement  of  the  loss  in  the  battle.  There  is 
a  palpable  error  of  the  transcribers  in  the  numbers  which  we  find  in  our 
present  manuscripts  of  Arrian,  and  Curtius  is  of  no  authority. 


8o  DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Synopsis  of  Events  Between  the  Battle  of  Arbela  and 
THE  Battle  of  the  Metaurus. 

B.C.  330.  The  Lacedsemonians  endeavor  to  create  a  rising 
in  Greece  against  the  Macedonian  power;  they  are  defeated 
by  Antipater,  Alexander's  viceroy ;  and  their  king,  Agis,  falls 
in  the  battle. 

330  to  327.  Alexander's  campaigns  in  Upper  Asia. 

327,  326.  Alexander  marches  through  Afghanistan  to  the 
Punjaub.  He  defeats  Porus.  His  troops  refuse  to  march 
toward  the  Ganges  and  he  commences  the  descent  of  the  Indus. 
On  his  march  he  attacks  and  subdues  several  Indian  tribes — 
among  others,  the  Malli,  in  the  storming  of  whose  capital 
(Moortan)  he  is  severely  wounded.  He  directs  his  admiral, 
Nearchus,  to  sail  round  from  the  Indus  to  the  Persian  Gulf, 
and  leads  the  army  back  across  Scinde  and  Beloochistan. 

324.  Alexander  returns  to  Babylon.  "  In  the  tenth  year 
after  he  had  crossed  the  Hellespont,  Alexander,  having  won  his 
vast  dominion,  entered  Babylon ;  and  resting  from  his  career 
in  that  oldest  seat  of  earthly  empire,  he  steadily  surveyed  the 
mass  of  various  nations  which  owned  his  sovereignty,  and  re- 
solved in  his  mind  the  great  work  of  breathing  into  this  huge 
but  inert  body  the  living  spirit  of  Greek  civilization.  In  the 
bloom  of  youthful  manhood,  at  the  age  of  thirty-two,  he  paused 
from  the  fiery  speed  of  his  earlier  course,  and  for  the  first  time 
gave  the  nations  an  opportunity  of  offering  their  homage  be- 
fore his  throne.  They  came  from  all  the  extremities  of  the 
earth  to  propitiate  his  anger,  to  celebrate  his  greatness,  or  to 
solicit  his  protection.  *  *  *  History  may  allow  us  to  think 
that  Alexander  and  a  Roman  ambassador  did  meet  at  Baby- 
lon ;  that  the  greatest  man  of  the  ancient  world  saw  and  spoke 
with  a  citizen  of  that  great  nation  which  was  destined  to  suc- 
ceed him  in  his  appointed  work,  and  to  found  a  wider  and  still 
more  enduring  empire.  They  met,  too,  in  Babylon,  almost  be- 
neath the  shadow  of  the  Temple  of  Bel,  perhaps  the  earliest 
monument  ever  raised  by  human  pride  and  power  in  a  city, 
stricken,  as  it  were,  by  the  word  of  God's  heaviest  judgment,  as 
the  symbol  of  greatness  apart  from  and  opposed  to  goodness." 
— (Arnold.) 

323.  Alexander  dies  at  Babylon.    On  his  death  being  known 


THE    BATTLE   OF    ARBELA  8l 

at  Greece,  the  Athenians,  and  others  of  the  southern  states, 
*ake  up  arms  to  shake  off  the  domination  of  Macedon.  They 
are  at  first  successful ;  but  the  return  of  some  of  Alexander's 
veterans  from  Asia  enables  Antipater  to  prevail  over  them. 

317  to  289.  Agathocles  is  tyrant  of  Syracuse,  and  carries  on 
repeated  wars  with  the  Carthaginians,  in  the  course  of  which 
(311)  he  invades  Africa,  and  reduces  the  Carthaginians  to  great 
distress. 

306.  After  a  long  series  of  wars  with  each  other,  and  after  all 
the  heirs  of  Alexander  had  been  murdered,  his  principal  sur- 
viving generals  assume  the  title  of  king,  each  over  the  provinces 
which  he  has  occupied.  The  four  chief  among  them  were  An- 
tigonus,  Ptolemy,  Lysimachus,  and  Seleucus.  Antipater  was 
now  dead,  but  his  son  Cassander  succeeded  to  his  power  in 
Macedonia  and  Greece. 

301.  Seleucus  and  Lysimachus  defeat  Antigonus  at  Ipsus. 
Antigonus  is  killed  in  the  battle. 

280.  Seleucus,  the  last  of  Alexander's  captains,  is  assas- 
sinated. Of  all  of  Alexander's  successors,  Seleucus  had  formed 
the  most  powerful  empire.  He  had  acquired  all  the  provinces 
between  Phrygia  and  the  Indus.  He  extended  his  dominion 
in  India  beyond  the  limits  reached  by  Alexander.  Seleucus 
had  some  sparks  of  his  great  master's  genius  in  promoting 
civilization  and  commerce,  as  well  as  in  gaining  victories. 
Under  his  successors,  the  Seleucidae,  this  vast  empire  rapidly 
diminished :  Bactria  became  independent,  and  a  separate 
dynasty  of  Greek  kings  ruled  there  in  the  year  125,  when  it  was 
overthrown  by  the  Scythian  tribe.  Parthia  threw  off  its  al- 
legiance to  the  Seleucidae  in  250  B.C.,  and  the  powerful  Par- 
thian kingdom,  which  afterwards  proved  so  formidable  a  foe  to 
Rome,  absorbed  nearly  all  the  provinces  west  of  the  Euphrates 
that  had  obeyed  the  first  Seleucus.  Before  the  battle  of  Ipsus, 
Mithridates,  a  Persian  prince  of  the  blood-royal  of  the  Achse- 
menidse,  had  escaped  to  Pontus  and  founded  there  the  kingdom 
of  that  name. 

Besides  the  kingdom  of  Seleucus,  which,  when  limited  to 
Syria,  Palestine,  and  parts  of  Asia  Minor,  long  survived,  the 
most  important  kingdom  formed  by  a  general  of  Alexander  was 
that  of  the  Ptolemies  in  Egypt.  The  throne  of  Macedonia  was 
long  and  obstinately  contended  for  by  Cassander,  Polysper- 
chon,  Lysimachus,  Pyrrhus,  Antigonus,  and  others,  but  at  last 


82  DECISIVE  BATTLES 

was  secured  by  the  dynasty  of  Antigonus  Gonatas.  The  old 
republics  of  Southern  Greece  suffered  severely  during  these 
tumults,  and  the  only  Greek  states  that  showed  any  strength 
and  spirit  were  the  cities  of  the  Achaean  league,  the  ^tolians, 
and  the  islanders  of  Rhodes. 

290.  Rome  had  now  thoroughly  subdued  the  Samnites  and 
the  Etruscans,  and  had  gained  numerous  victories  over  the 
Cisalpine  Gauls.  Wishing  to  confirm  her  dominion  in  Lower 
Italy,  she  became  entangled  in  a  war  with  Pyrrhus,  fourth  king 
of  Epirus,  who  was  called  over  by  the  Tarentines  to  aid  them. 
Pyrrhus  was  at  first  victorious,  but  in  the  year  275  was  defeated 
by  the  Roman  legions  in  a  pitched  battle.  He  returned  to 
Greece,  remarking  of  Sicily,  Otav  anoXd-rrofxev  Kapx^Son'ots  kol  'Pa>- 
/xatot?  TTaAaio-Tpai',  "  Rome  becomes  mistress  of  all  Italy  from  the 
Rubicon  to  the  Straits  of  Messina." 

264.  The  first  Punic  war  begins.  Its  primary  cause  was  the 
desire  of  both  the  Romans  and  the  Carthaginians  to  possess 
themselves  of  Sicily.  The  Romans  form  a  fleet,  and  success- 
fully compete  with  the  marine  of  Carthage.*  During  the  latter 
half  of  the  war  the  military  genius  of  Hamilcar  Barca  sustains 
the  Carthaginian  cause  in  Sicily.  At  the  end  of  twenty-four 
years  the  Carthaginians  sue  for  peace,  though  their  aggre- 
gate loss  in  ships  and  men  had  been  less  than  that  sustained  by 
the  Romans  since  the  beginning  of  the  war.  Sicily  becomes  a 
Roman  province. 

240  to  218.  The  Carthaginian  mercenaries  who  had  been 
brought  back  from  Sicily  to  Africa  mutiny  against  Carthage, 
and  nearly  succeed  in  destroying  her.  After  a  sanguinary  and 
desperate  struggle,  Hamilcar  Barca  crushes  them.  During 
this  season  of  weakness  to  Carthage,  Rome  takes  from  her  the 
island  of  Sardinia.  Hamilcar  Barca  forms  the  project  of  ob- 
taining compensation  by  conquests  in  Spain,  and  thus  enabling 
Carthage  to  renew  the  struggle  with  Rome.  He  takes  Han- 
nibal (then  a  child)  to  Spain  with  him.  He,  and,  after  his 
death,  his  brother  win  great  part  of  Southern  Spain  to  the 

*  There  is  at  this  present  moment  in  the  Great  Exhibition  at  Hyde 
Park  a  model  of  a  piratical  galley  of  Labuan,  part  of  the  mast  of  which 
can  be  let  down  on  the  enemy,  and  form  a  bridge  for  boarders.  It  is 
worth  while  to  compare  this  with  the  account  of  Polybius  of  the  board- 
ing bridges  which  the  Roman  admiral,  Duillius,  affixed  to  the  masts  of 
his  galleys,  and  by  means  of  which  he  won  his  great  victory  over  the 
Carthaginian  fleet. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    ARBELA  83 

Carthaginian  interest.  Hannibal  obtains  the  command  of  the 
Carthaginian  armies  in  Spain  221  B.C.,  being  then  twenty-six 
years  old.  He  attacks  Saguntum,  a  city  on  the  Ebro,  in  alli- 
ance with  Rome,  which  is  the  immediate  pretext  for  the  second 
Punic  war. 

During  this  interval  Rome  had  to  sustain  a  storm  from  the 
North.  The  Cisalpine  Gauls,  in  226,  formed  an  alliance  with 
one  of  the  fiercest  tribes  of  their  brethren  north  of  the  Alps, 
and  began  a  furious  war  against  the  Romans,  which  lasted  six 
years.  The  Romans  gave  them  several  severe  defeats,  and 
took  from  them  part  of  their  territories  near  the  Po.  It  was  on 
this  occasion  that  the  Roman  colonies  of  Cremona  and  Pla- 
centia  were  founded,  the  latter  of  which  did  such  essential  ser- 
vice to  Rome  in  the  second  Punic  war  by  the  resistance  which 
it  made  to  the  army  of  Hasdrubal.  A  muster-roll  was  made 
in  this  war  of  the  effective  military  force  of  the  Romans  them- 
selves, and  of  those  Italian  states  that  were  subject  to  them. 
The  return  showed  a  force  of  seven  hundred  thousand  foot 
and  seventy  thousand  horse.  Polybius,  who  mentions  this 
muster,  remarks, 
lEi<f>  ovs  'Awi^as  iXaTTov;  t)((j)v  Sior/xvpiW,  CTre'jSoXev  cis  T^v  'IraXiav. 

218.  Hannibal  crosses  the  Alps  and  invades  Italy. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS,  B.C.  207. 

"  Quid  debeas,  O  Roma,  Neronibus, 
Testis  Metaurum  flumen,  et  Hasdrubal 
Devictus,  et  pulcher  fugatis 
Ille  dies  Latio  tenebris. 

"Qui  primus  alma  risit  adorea; 
Dirus  per  urbes  Afer  ut  Italas, 

Ceu  flamma  per  taedas  vel  Eurus 
Per  Siculas  equitavit  undas." 

— HORATIUS,  iv.  Od.  4. 
"  The  consul  Nero,  who  made  the  unequalled  march  which  deceived 
Hannibal  and  deceived  Hasdrubal,  thereby  accomplishing  an  achieve- 
ment almost  unrivaled  in  military  annals.  The  first  intelligence  of  his 
return,  to  Hannibal,  was  the  sight  of  Hasdrubal's  head  thrown  into  his 
camp.  When  Hannibal  saw  this,  he  exclaimed,  with  a  sigh,  that  Rome 
would  now  be  the  mistress  of  the  world.  To  this  victory  of  Nero's  it 
might  be  owing  that  his  imperial  namesake  reigned  at  all.  But  the  in- 
famy of  the  one  has  eclipsed  the  glory  of  the  other.  When  the  name  of 
Nero  is  heard,  who  thinks  of  the  consul?  But  such  are  human  things." — 
Byron. 

ABOUT  midway  between  Rimini  and  Ancona  a  little  river 
falls  into  the  Adriatic,  after  traversing  one  of  those  dis- 
tricts of  Italy  in  which  a  vain  attempt  has  lately  been 
made  to  revive,  after  long  centuries  of  servitude  and  shame,  the 
spirit  of  Italian  nationality  and  the  energy  of  free  institutions. 
That  stream  is  still  called  the  Metauro,  and  wakens  by  its  name 
the  recollections  of  the  resolute  daring  of  ancient  Rome,  and  0/ 
the  slaughter  that  stained  its  current  two  thousand  and  sixty- 
three  years  ago,  when  the  combined  consular  armies  of  Livius 
and  Nero  encountered  and  crushed  near  its  banks  the  varied 
hosts  which  Hannibal's  brother  was  leading  from  the  Pyrenees, 
the  Rhone,  the  Alps,  and  the  Po,  to  aid  the  great  Carthaginian  in 
his  stern  struggle  to  annihilate  the  growing  might  of  the  Roman 
republic,  and  make  the  Punic  power  supreme  over  all  the  na- 
tions of  the  world. 

84 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    METAURUS  85 

The  Roman  historian,  who  termed  that  struggle  the  most 
memorable  of  all  wars  that  ever  were  carried  on,*  wrote  in  no 
spirit  of  exaggeration ;  for  it  is  not  in  ancient,  but  in  modern 
history,  that  parallels  for  its  incidents  and  its  heroes  are  to  be 
found.  The  similitude  between  the  contest  which  Rome  main- 
tained against  Hannibal,  and  that  which  England  was  for  many 
years  engaged  in  against  Napoleon,  has  not  passed  unobserved 
by  recent  historians.  "  Twice,"  says  Arnold,  f  "  has  there  been 
witnessed  the  struggle  of  the  highest  individual  genius  against 
the  resources  and  institutions  of  a  great  nation,  and  in  both 
cases  the  nation  has  been  victorious.  For  seventeen  years 
Hannibal  strove  against  Rome ;  for  sixteen  years  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  strove  against  England  :  the  efforts  of  the  first  ended 
in  Zama ;  those  of  the  second  in  Waterloo."  One  point,  how- 
ever, of  the  similitude  between  the  two  wars  has  scarcely  been 
adequately  dwelt  on ;  that  is,  the  remarkable  parallel  between 
the  Roman  general  who  finally  defeated  the  great  Carthaginian, 
and  the  English  general  who  gave  the  last  deadly  overthrow 
to  the  French  emperor.  Scipio  and  Wellington  both  held  for 
many  years  commands  of  high  importance,  but  distant  from 
the  main  theatres  of  warfare.  The  same  country  was  the  scene 
of  the  principal  military  career  of  each.  It  was  in  Spain  that 
Scipio,  like  Wellington,  successively  encountered  and  over- 
threw nearly  all  the  subordinate  generals  of  the  enemy  before 
being  opposed  to  the  chief  champion  and  conqueror  himself. 
Both  Scipio  and  Wellington  restored  their  countrymen's  confi- 
dence in  arms  when  shaken  by  a  series  of  reverses,  and  each  of 
them  closed  a  long  and  perilous  war  by  a  complete  and  over- 
whelming defeat  of  the  chosen  leader  and  the  chosen  veterans 
of  the  foe. 

Nor  is  the  parallel  between  them  limited  to  their  military 
characters  and  exploits.  Scipio,  like  Wellington,  became  an 
important  leader  of  the  aristocratic  party  among  his  country- 
men, and  was  exposed  to  the  unmeasured  invectives  of  the 
violent  section  of  his  political  antagonists.  When,  early  in  the 
reign  of  William  IV.,  an  infuriated  mob  assaulted  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  in  the  streets  of  the  English  capital  on  the  anni- 
versary of  Waterloo,  England  was  even  more  disgraced  by  that 
outrage  than  Rome  was  by  the  factious  accusations  which 

*  Livy,  lib.  xxi.,  sec.  i. 

t  Vol.  iii.,  p.  62.    See  also  Alison,  passim. 


86  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

demagogues  brought  against  Scipio,  but  which  he  proudly 
repelled  on  the  day  of  trial  by  reminding  the  assembled  people 
that  it  was  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Zama.  Happily,  a 
wiser  and  a  better  spirit  has  now  for  years  pervaded  all  classes 
of  our  community,  and  we  shall  be  spared  the  ignominy  of  hav- 
ing worked  out  to  the  end  the  parallel  of  national  ingratitude. 
Scipio  died  a  voluntary  exile  from  the  malevolent  turbulence 
of  Rome.  Englishmen  of  all  ranks  and  politics  have  now  long 
united  in  affectionate  admiration  of  our  modern  Scipio ;  and 
even  those  who  have  most  widely  differed  from  the  duke  on 
legislative  or  administrative  questions,  forget  what  they  deem 
the  political  errors  of  that  time-honored  head,  while  they 
gratefully  call  to  mind  the  laurels  that  have  wreathed  it. 

Scipio  at  Zama  trampled  in  the  dust  the  power  of  Carthage, 
but  that  power  had  been  already  irreparably  shattered  in  an- 
other field,  where  neither  Scipio  nor  Hannibal  commanded. 
When  the  Metaurus  witnessed  the  defeat  and  death  of  Hasdru- 
bal,  it  witnessed  the  ruin  of  the  scheme  by  which  alone  Carthage 
could  hope  to  organize  decisive  success — the  scheme  of  en- 
veloping Rome  at  once  from  the  north  and  the  south  of  Italy 
by  two  chosen  armies,  led  by  two  sons  of  Hamilcar.*  That 
battle  was  the  determining  crisis  of  the  contest,  not  merely  be- 
tween Rome  and  Carthage,  but  between  the  two  great  families 
of  the  world,  which  then  made  Italy  the  arena  of  their  oft- 
renewed  contest  for  pre-eminence. 

The  French  historian,  Michelet,  whose  "  Histoire  Romaine  " 
would  have  been  invaluable  if  the  general  industry  and  accuracy 
of  the  writer  had  in  any  degree  equalled  his  originality  and 
brilliancy,  eloquently  remarks,  "  It  is  not  without  reason  that  so 
universal  and  vivid  a  remembrance  of  the  Punic  wars  has  dwelt 
in  the  memories  of  men.  They  formed  no  mere  struggle  to 
determine  the  lot  of  two  cities  or  two  empires  ;  but  it  was  a  strife, 
on  the  event  of  which  depended  the  fate  of  two  races  of  man- 
kind, whether  the  dominion  of  the  world  should  belong  to  the 
Indo-Germanic  or  to  the  Semitic  family  of  nations.  Bear  in 
mind  that  the  first  of  these  comprises,  besides  the  Indians  and 
the  Persians,  the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  and  the  Germans.  In 
the  other  are  ranked  the  Jews  and  the  Arabs,  the  Phoenicians 
and  the  Carthaginians.  On  the  one  side  is  the  genius  of  hero- 
ism, of  art,  and  legislation  ;  on  the  other  is  the  spirit  of  industry, 

*  Sec  Arnold,  vol.  iii..  3S7. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS        87 

of  commerce,  of  navigation.  The  two  opposite  races  have 
everywhere  come  into  contact,  everywhere  into  hostihty.  In 
the  primitive  history  of  Persia  and  Chaldea,  the  heroes  are  per- 
petually engaged  in  combat  with  their  industrious  and  perfidi- 
ous neighbors.  The  struggle  is  renewed  between  the  Phoeni- 
cians and  the  Greeks  on  every  coast  of  the  Mediterranean.  The 
Greek  supplants  the  Phoenician  in  all  his  factories,  all  his  col- 
onies in  the  East :  soon  will  the  Roman  come,  and  do  likewise 
in  the  West.  Alexander  did  far  more  against  Tyre  than  Sal- 
manasar  or  Nabuchodonosor  had  done.  Not  content  with 
crushing  her,  he  took  care  that  she  never  should  revive ;  for  he 
founded  Alexandria  as  her  substitute,  and  changed  forever  the 
track  of  the  commerce  of  the  world.  There  remained  Carthage 
— the  great  Carthage,  and  her  mighty  empire — mighty  in  a  far 
different  degree  than  Phoenicia's  had  been.  Rome  annihilated 
it.  Then  occurred  that  which  has  no  parallel  in  history — an 
entire  civilization  perished  at  one  blow — banished,  like  a  falling 
star.  The  '  Periplus  '  of  Hanno,  a  few  coins,  a  score  of  lines 
in  Plautus,  and,  lo,  all  that  remains  of  the  Carthaginian  world ! 

"  Many  generations  must  needs  pass  away  before  the  strug- 
gle between  the  two  races  could  be  renewed ;  and  the  Arabs, 
that  formidable  rear-guard  of  the  Semitic  world,  dashed  forth 
from  their  deserts.  The  conflict  between  the  two  races  then 
became  the  conflict  of  two  religions.  Fortunate  was  it  that 
those  daring  Saracenic  cavaliers  encountered  in  the  East  the 
impregnable  walls  of  Constantinople,  in  the  West  the  chival- 
rous valor  of  Charles  Martel,  and  the  sword  of  the  Cid.  The 
crusades  were  the  natural  reprisals  for  the  Arab  invasions,  and 
form  the  last  epoch  of  that  great  struggle  between  the  two  prin- 
cipal families  of  the  human  race." 

It  is  difficult,  amid  the  glimmering  light  supplied  by  the  allu- 
sions of  the  classical  writers,  to  gain  a  full  idea  of  the  character 
and  institutions  of  Rome's  great  rival.  But  we  can  perceive 
how  inferior  Carthage  was  to  her  competitor  in  military  re- 
sources, and  how  far  less  fitted  than  Rome  she  was  to  become 
the  founder  of  centralized  and  centralizing  dominion,  that 
should  endure  for  centuries,  and  fuse  into  imperial  unity  the 
narrow  nationalities  of  the  ancient  races,  that  dwelt  around  and 
near  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 

Carthage  was  originally  neither  the  most  ancient  nor  the 
most  powerful  of  the  numerous  colonies  which  the  Phoenicians 


88  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

planted  on  the  coast  of  Northern  Africa.  But  her  advan^ 
tageous  position,  the  excellence  of  her  constitution  (of  which, 
though  ill-informed  as  to  its  details,  we  know  that  it  com- 
manded the  admiration  of  Aristotle),  and  the  commercial  and 
political  energy  of  her  citizens,  gave  her  the  ascendency  over 
Hippo,  Utica,  Leptis,  and  her  other  sister  Phoenician  cities  in 
those  regions ;  and  she  finally  reduced  them  to  a  condition  of 
dependency,  similar  to  that  which  the  subject  allies  of  Athens 
occupied  relatively  to  that  once  imperial  city.  When  Tyre  and 
Sidon,  and  the  other  cities  of  Phoenicia  itself  sank  from  inde- 
pendent republics  into  mere  vassal  states  of  the  great  Asiatic 
monarchies,  and  obeyed  by  turns  a  Babylonian,  a  Persian,  and 
a  Macedonian  master,  their  power  and  their  traffic  rapidly  de- 
clined, and  Carthage  succeeded  to  the  important  maritime  and 
commercial  character  which  they  had  previously  maintained. 
The  Carthaginians  did  not  seek  to  compete  with  the  Greeks  on 
the  northeastern  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  or  in  the  three 
inland  seas  which  are  connected  with  it;  but  they  maintained 
an  active  intercourse  with  the  Phoenicians,  and  through  them 
with  Lower  and  Central  Asia ;  and  they,  and  they  alone,  after 
the  decline  and  fall  of  Tyre,  navigated  the  waters  of  the  Atlan- 
tic. They  had  the  monopoly  of  all  the  commerce  of  the  world 
that  was  carried  on  beyond  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.  We  have 
yet  extant  (in  a  Greek  translation)  the  narrative  of  the  voyage 
of  Hanno,  one  of  their  admirals,  along  the  western  coast  of 
Africa  as  far  as  Sierra  Leone ;  and  in  the  Latin  poem  of  Festus 
Avienus  frequent  references  are  made  to  the  records  of  the  voy- 
ages of  another  celebrated  Carthaginian  admiral,  Himilco,  who 
had  explored  the  northwestern  coast  of  Europe.  Our  own 
islands  are  mentioned  by  Himilco  as  the  lands  of  the  Hiberni 
and  Albioni.  It  is  indeed  certain  that  the  Carthaginians  fre- 
quented the  Cornish  coast  (as  the  Phoenicians  had  done  before 
them)  for  the  purpose  of  procuring  tin  ;  and  there  is  every  reason 
to  believe  that  they  sailed  as  far  as  the  coasts  of  the  Baltic  for 
amber.  When  it  is  remembered  that  the  mariner's  compass 
was  unknown  in  those  ages,  the  boldness  and  skill  of  the  sea- 
men of  Carthage,  and  the  enterprise  of  her  merchants,  may  be 
paralleled  with  any  achievements  that  the  history  of  modern 
navigation  and  commerce  can  produce. 

In  their  Atlantic  voyages  along  the  African  shores,  the  Car- 
thaginians followed  the  double  object  of  traffic  and  coloniza- 


THE    BATTLE    OF   THE    METAURUS  8g 

tion.  The  numerous  settlements  that  were  planted  by  them 
along  the  coast  from  Morocco  to  Senegal  provided  for  the 
needy  members  of  the  constantly  increasing  population  of  a 
great  commercial  capital,  and  also  strengthened  the  influence 
which  Carthage  exercised  among  the  tribes  of  the  African 
coast.  Besides  her  fleets,  her  caravans  gave  her  a  large  and 
lucrative  trade  with  the  native  Africans ;  nor  must  we  limit  our 
belief  of  the  extent  of  the  Carthaginian  trade  with  the  tribes  of 
Central  and  Western  Africa  by  the  narrowness  of  the  commer- 
cial intercourse  which  civilized  nations  of  modern  times  have 
been  able  to  create  in  those  regions. 

Although  essentially  a  mercantile  and  seafaring  people,  the 
Carthaginians  by  no  means  neglected  agriculture.  On  the 
contrary,  the  whole  of  their  territory  was  cultivated  like  a  gar- 
den. The  fertility  of  the  soil  repaid  the  skill  and  toil  bestowed  on 
it;  and  every  invader,  from  Agathocles  to  Scipio  ^milianus, 
was  struck  with  admiration  at  the  rich  pasture  lands  carefully 
irrigated,  the  abundant  harvests,  the  luxuriant  vineyards,  the 
plantations  of  fig  and  olive  trees,  the  thriving  villages,  the  popu- 
lous towns,  and  the  splendid  villas  of  the  wealthy  Carthaginians, 
through  which  his  march  lay,  as  long  as  he  was  on  Carthaginian 
ground. 

Although  the  Carthaginians  abandoned  the  ^gaean  and  the 
Pontus  to  the  Greek,  they  were  by  no  means  disposed  to  relin- 
quish to  those  rivals  the  commerce  and  the  dominion  of  the 
coasts  of  the  Mediterranean  westward  of  Italy.  For  centuries 
the  Carthaginians  strove  to  make  themselves  masters  of  the 
islands  that  lie  betv/een  Italy  and  Spain.  They  acquired  the 
Balearic  Islands,  where  the  principal  harbor,  Port  Mahon,  still 
bears  the  name  of  a  Carthaginian  admiral.  They  succeeded  in 
reducing  the  great  part  of  Sardinia ;  but  Sicily  could  never  be 
brought  into  their  power.  They  repeatedly  invaded  that  island, 
and  nearly  overran  it ;  but  the  resistance  which  was  opposed  to 
them  by  the  Syracusans  under  Gelon,  Dionysius,  Timoleon, 
and  Agathocles,  preserved  the  island  from  becoming  Punic, 
though  many  of  its  cities  remained  under  the  Carthaginian 
rule  until  Rome  finally  settled  the  question  to  whom  Sicily  was 
to  belong  by  conquering  it  for  herself. 

With  so  many  elements  of  success,  with  almost  unbounded 
wealth,  with  commercial  and  maritime  activity,  with  a  fertile 
territory,  with  a  capital  city  of  almost  impregnable  strength, 


90 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


with  a  constitution  that  insured  for  centuries  the  blessing  of 
social  order,  with  an  aristocracy  singularly  fertile  in  men  of  the 
highest  genius,  Carthage  yet  failed  signally  and  calamitously 
in  her  contest  for  power  with  Rome.  One  of  the  immediate 
causes  of  this  may  seem  to  have  been  the  want  of  firmness 
among  her  citizens,  which  made  them  terminate  the  first  Punic 
war  by  begging  peace,  sooner  than  endure  any  longer  the  hard- 
ships and  burdens  caused  by  a  state  of  warfare,  although  their 
antagonists  had  suffered  far  more  severely  than  themselves. 
Another  cause  was  the  spirit  of  faction  among  their  leading 
men,  which  prevented  Hannibal  in  the  second  war  from  being 
properly  re-enforced  and  supported.  But  there  were  also  more 
general  causes  why  Carthage  proved  inferior  to  Rome.  These 
were  her  position  relatively  to  the  mass  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
country  which  she  ruled,  and  her  habit  of  trusting  to  mercenary 
armies  in  her  wars. 

Our  clearest  information  as  to  the  different  races  of  men  in 
and  about  Carthage  is  derived  from  Diodorus  Siculus.*  That 
historian  enumerates  four  different  races:  first,  he  mentions 
the  Phoenicians  who  dwelt  in  Carthage ;  next,  he  speaks  of  the 
Liby-Phoenicians :  these,  he  tells  us,  dwelt  in  many  of  the  mari- 
time cities,  and  were  connected  by  intermarriage  with  the  Phoe- 
nicians, which  was  the  cause  of  their  compound  name ;  thirdly, 
he  mentions  the  Libyans,  the  bulk  and  the  most  ancient  part  of 
the  population,  hating  the  Carthaginians  intensely  on  account 
of  the  oppressiveness  of  their  domination  ;  lastly,  he  names  the 
Numidians,  the  nomade  tribes  of  the  frontier. 

It  is  evident,  from  this  description,  that  the  native  Libyans 
were  a  subject  class,  without  franchise  or  political  rights ;  and, 
accordingly,  we  find  no  instance  specified  in  history  of  a  Libyan 
holding  political  office  or  military  command.  The  half-castes, 
the  Liby-Phoenicians,  seem  to  have  been  sometimes  sent  out  as 
colonists  ;f  but  it  may  be  inferred,  from  what  Diodorus  says  of 
their  residence,  that  they  had  not  the  right  of  the  citizenship  of 
Carthage ;  and  only  a  single  solitary  case  occurs  of  one  of  this 
race  being  intrusted  with  authority,  and  that,  too,  not  emanat- 
ing from  the  home  government.  This  is  the  instance  of  the 
oflficer  sent  by  Hannibal  to  Sicily  after  the  fall  of  Syracuse,  whom 
PolybiusJ  calls  Myttinus  the  Libyan,  but  whom,  from  the  fuller 

*  Vol.  ii.,  p.  447,  Wesseling's  ed. 
t  Lib.  XXV.,  22.  t  See  the  "  Periplus  "  of  Hanno. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    METAURUS  91 

accounts  in  Livy,  we  find  to  have  been  a  Liby-Phoenician  ;l  and 
it  is  expressly  mentioned  what  indignation  was  felt  by  the  Car- 
thaginian commanders  in  the  island  that  this  half-caste  should 
control  their  operations. 

With  respect  to  the  composition  of  their  armies,  it  is  observ- 
able that,  though  thirsting  for  extended  empire,  and  though 
some  of  their  leading  men  became  generals  of  the  highest  order, 
the  Carthaginians,  as  a  people,  were  anything  but  personally 
warlike.  As  long  as  they  could  hire  mercenaries  to  fight  for 
them,  they  had  little  appetite  for  the  irksome  training  and  the 
loss  of  valuable  time  which  military  service  would  have  entailed 
on  themselves. 

As  Michelet  remarks :  "  The  life  of  an  industrious  merchant, 
of  a  Carthaginian,  was  too  precious  to  be  risked,  as  long  as  it 
was  possible  to  substitute  advantageously  for  it  that  of  a  bar- 
barian from  Spain  or  Gaul.  Carthage  knew,  and  could  tell  to 
a  drachma,  what  the  life  of  a  man  of  each  nation  came  to.  A 
Greek  was  worth  more  than  a  Campanian,  a  Campanian  worth 
more  than  a  Gaul  or  a  Spaniard.  When  once  this  tariff  of  blood 
was  correctly  made  out,  Carthage  began  a  war  as  a  mercantile 
speculation.  She  tried  to  make  conquests  in  the  hope  of  get- 
ting new  mines  to  work,  or  to  open  fresh  markets  for  her  ex- 
ports. In  one  venture  she  could  afiford  to  spend  fifty  thousand 
mercenaries,  in  another  rather  more.  If  the  returns  were  good, 
there  was  no  regret  felt  for  the  capital  that  had  been  sunk  in  the 
investment ;  more  money  got  more  men,  and  all  went  on  well."* 

Armies  composed  of  foreign  mercenaries  have  in  all  ages 
been  as  formidable  to  their  employers  as  to  the  enemy  against 
whom  they  were  directed.  We  know  of  one  occasion  (between 
the  first  and  second  Punic  wars)  when  Carthage  was  brought 
to  the  very  brink  of  destruction  by  a  revolt  of  her  foreign  troops. 
Other  mutinies  of  the  same  kind  must  from  time  to  time  have 
occurred.  Probably  one  of  these  was  the  cause  of  the  com- 
parative weakness  of  Carthage  at  the  time  of  the  Athenian  ex- 
pedition against  Syracuse,  so  different  from  the  energy  with 
which  she  attacked  Gelon  half  a  century  earlier,  and  Dionysius 
half  a  century  later.  And  even  when  we  consider  her  armies 
with  reference  only  to  their  efficiency  in  warfare,  we  perceive  at 
once  the  inferiority  of  such  bands  of  condottieri,  brought  to- 
gether without  any  common  bond  of  origin,  tactics,  or  cause, 
t  Lib.  XXV.,  40.  *  "  Histoire  Romaine,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  40. 


92  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

to  the  legions  of  Rome,  which,  at  the  time  of  the  Punic  wars, 
were  raised  from  the  very  flower  of  a  hardy  agricultural  popu- 
lation, trained  in  the  strictest  discipline,  habituated  to  victory, 
and  animated  by  the  most  resolute  patriotism.  And  this  shows, 
also,  the  transcendency  of  the  genius  of  Hannibal,  which  could 
form  such  discordant  materials  into  a  compact  organized  force, 
and  inspire  them  with  the  spirit  of  patient  discipline  and  loyalty 
to  their  chief,  so  that  they  were  true  to  him  in  his  adverse  as 
well  as  in  his  prosperous  fortunes ;  and  throughout  the  check- 
ered series  of  his  campaigns  no  panic  rout  ever  disgraced  a 
division  under  his  command,  no  mutiny,  or  even  attempt  at 
mutiny,  was  ever  known  in  his  camp ;  and,  finally,  after  fifteen 
years  of  Italian  warfare,  his  men  followed  their  old  leader  to 
Zama,  "  with  no  fear  and  little  hope,"*  and  there,  on  that  dis- 
astrous field,  stood  firm  around  him,  his  Old  Guard,  till  Scipio's 
Numidian  allies  came  up  on  their  flank,  when  at  last,  surrounded 
and  overpowered,  the  veteran  battalions  sealed  their  devotion 
to  their  general  by  their  blood ! 

"  But  if  Hannibal's  genius  may  be  likened  to  the  Homeric 
god,  who,  in  his  hatred  to  the  Trojans,  rises  from  the  deep  to 
rally  the  fainting  Greeks  and  to  lead  them  against  the  enemy, 
so  the  calm  courage  with  which  Hector  met  his  more  than 
human  adversary  in  his  country's  cause  is  no  unworthy  image  of 
the  unyielding  magnanimity  displayed  by  the  aristocracy  of 
Rome.  As  Hannibal  utterly  eclipses  Carthage,  so,  on  the  con- 
trary, Fabius,Marcellus,  Claudius  Nero,  even  Scipio  himself,  are 
as  nothing  when  compared  to  the  spirit,  and  wisdom,  and  power 
of  Rome.  The  Senate,  which  voted  its  thanks  to  its  political 
enemy,  Varro,  after  his  disastrous  defeat,  '  because  he  had  not 
despaired  of  the  commonwealth,'  and  which  disdained  either  to 
solicit,  or  to  reprove,  or  to  threaten,  or  in  any  way  to  notice  the 
twelve  colonies  which  had  refused  their  accustomed  supplies 
of  men  for  the  army,  is  far  more  to  be  honored  than  the  con- 
queror of  Zama.  This  we  should  the  more  carefully  bear  in 
mind,  because  our  tendency  is  to  admire  individual  greatness 
far  more  than  national ;  and,  as  no  single  Roman  will  bear  com- 
parison to  Hannibal,  we  are  apt  to  murmur  at  the  event  of  the 
contest,  and  to  think  that  the  victory  was  awarded  to  the  least 

*  "  We  advanced  to  Waterloo  as  the  Greeks  did  to  Thermopylae:  all 
of  us  without  fear,  and  most  of  us  without  hope." — Speech  of  General 
Foy. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS        93 

worthy  of  the  combatants.  On  the  contrary,  never  was  the 
wisdom  of  God's  providence  more  manifest  than  in  the  issue  of 
the  struggle  between  Rome  and  Carthage.  It  was  clearly  for 
the  good  of  mankind  that  Hannibal  should  be  conquered ;  his 
triumph  would  have  stopped  the  progress  of  the  world ;  for 
great  men  can  only  act  permanently  by  forming  great  nations ; 
and  no  one  man,  even  though  it  were  Hannibal  himself,  can 
in  one  generation  effect  such  a  work.  But  where  the  nation 
has  been  merely  enkindled  for  a  while  by  a  great  man's  spirit, 
the  light  passes  away  with  him  who  communicated  it ;  and  the 
nation,  when  he  is  gone,  is  like  a  dead  body,  to  which  magic 
power  had  for  a  moment  given  unnatural  life :  when  the  charm 
has  ceased,  the  body  is  cold  and  stiff  as  before.  He  who  grieves 
over  the  battle  of  Zama  should  carry  on  his  thoughts  to  a  period 
thirty  years  later,  when  Hannibal  must,  in  the  course  of  nature, 
have  been  dead,  and  consider  how  the  isolated  Phoenician  city 
of  Carthage  was  fitted  to  receive  and  to  consolidate  the  civiliza- 
tion of  Greece,  or  by  its  laws  and  institutions  to  bind  together 
barbarians  of  every  race  and  language  into  an  organized  em- 
pire, and  prepare  them  for  becoming,  when  that  empire  was 
dissolved,  the  free  members  of  the  commonwealth  of  Christian 
Europe."* 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  207  B.C.  that  Hasdrubal,  after  skil- 
fully disentangling  himself  from  the  Roman  forces  in  Spain, 
and  after  a  march  conducted  with  great  judgment  and  little  loss 
through  the  interior  of  Gaul  and  the  passes  of  the  Alps,  ap- 
peared in  the  country  that  now  is  the  north  of  Lombardy  at  the 
head  of  troops  which  he  had  partly  brought  out  of  Spain  and 
partly  levied  among  the  Gauls  and  Ligurians  on  his  way.  At 
this  time  Hannibal,  with  his  unconquered  and  seemingly  un- 
conquerable army,  had  been  eight  years  in  Italy,  executing 
with  strenuous  ferocity  the  vow  of  hatred  to  Rome  which  had 
been  sworn  by  him  while  yet  a  child  at  the  bidding  of  his  father, 
Hamilcar ;  who,  as  he  boasted,  had  trained  up  his  three  sons, 
Hannibal,  Hasdrubal,  and  Mago,  like  three  lion's  whelps,  to 
prey  upon  the  Romans.  But  Hannibal's  latter  campaigns  had 
not  been  signalized  by  any  such  great  victories  as  marked  the 

*  Arnold,  vol.  iii.,  p.  61.  The  above  is  one  of  the  numerous  bursts  of 
eloquence  that  adorn  Arnold's  last  volume,  and  cause  such  deep  regret 
that  that  volume  should  have  been  the  last,  and  its  great  and  good  author 
have  been  cut  off  with  his  work  thus  incomplete. 


94  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

first  years  of  his  invasion  of  Italy.  The  stern  spirit  of  Roman 
resolution,  ever  highest  in  disaster  and  danger,  had  neither  bent 
nor  despaired  beneath  the  merciless  blows  which  "  the  dire 
African  "  dealt  her  in  rapid  succession  at  Trebia,  at  Thrasy- 
mene,  and  at  Cannae.  Her  population  was  thinned  by  repeated 
slaughter  in  the  field  ;  poverty  and  actual  scarcity  ground  down 
the  survivors,  through  the  fearful  ravages  which  Hannibal's 
cavalry  spread  through  their  corn-fields,  their  pasture  lands, 
and  their  vineyards ;  many  of  her  allies  went  over  to  the  invad- 
er's side,  and  new  clouds  of  foreign  war  threatened  her  from 
Macedonia  and  Gaul.  But  Rome  receded  not.  Rich  and 
poor  among  her  citizens  vied  with  each  other  in  devotion 
to  their  country.  The  wealthy  placed  their  stores,  and  all 
placed  their  lives,  at  the  state's  disposal.  And,  though  Han- 
nibal could  not  be  driven  out  of  Italy,  though  every  year 
brought  its  sufferings  and  sacrifices,  Rome  felt  that  her  con- 
stancy had  not  been  exerted  in  vain.  If  she  was  weakened  by 
the  continued  strife,  so  was  Hannibal  also  ;  and  it  was  clear  that 
the  unaided  resources  of  his  army  were  unequal  to  the  task  of 
her  destruction.  The  single  deer-hound  could  not  pull  down 
the  quarry  which  he  had  so  furiously  assailed.  Rome  not  only 
stood  fiercely  at  bay,  but  had  pressed  back  and  gored  her  an- 
tagonist, that  still,  however,  watched  her  in  act  to  spring.  She 
was  weary,  and  bleeding  at  every  pore ;  and  there  seemed  to  be 
little  hope  of  her  escape,  if  the  other  hound  of  old  Hamilcar's 
race  should  come  up  in  time  to  aid  his  brother  in  the  death- 
grapple. 

Hasdrubal  had  commanded  the  Carthaginian  armies  in  Spain 
for  some  time  with  varying  but  generally  unfavorable  fortune. 
He  had  not  the  full  authority  over  the  Punic  forces  in  that  coun- 
try which  his  brother  and  father  had  previously  exercised.  The 
faction  at  Carthage,  which  was  at  feud  with  his  family,  suc- 
ceeded in  fettering  and  interfering  with  his  power ;  and  other 
generals  were  from  time  to  time  sent  into  Spain,  whose  errors 
and  misconduct  caused  the  reverses  that  Hasdrubal  met  with. 
This  is  expressly  attested  by  the  Greek  historian  Polybius,  who 
was  the  intimate  friend  of  the  younger  Africanus,  and  drew  his 
information  respecting  the  second  Punic  war  from  the  best  pos- 
sible authorities.  Livy  gives  a  long  narrative  of  campaigns  be- 
tween the  Roman  commanders  in  Spain  and  Hasdrubal,  which 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    METAURUS 


95 


is  so  palpably  deformed  by  fictions  and  exaggerations  as  to  be 
hardly  deserving  of  attention.* 

It  is  clear  that,  in  the  year  208  b.c,  at  least,  Hasdrubal  out- 
manoeuvred Publius  Scipio,  who  held  the  command  of  the 
Roman  forces  in  Spain,  and  whose  object  was  to  prevent  him 
from  passing  the  Pyrenees  and  marching  upon  Italy.  Scipio 
expected  that  Hasdrubal  would  attempt  the  nearest  route  along 
the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  he  therefore  carefully  forti- 
fied and  guarded  the  passes  of  the  eastern  Pyrenees.  But  Has- 
drubal passed  these  mountains  near  their  western  extremity; 
and  then,  with  a  considerable  force  of  Spanish  infantry,  with  a 
small  number  of  African  troops,  with  some  elephants  and  much 
treasure,  he  marched,  not  directly  towards  the  coast  of  the  Med- 
iterranean, but  in  a  northeastern  line  towards  the  centre  of  Gaul. 
He  halted  for  the  winter  in  the  territory  of  the  Arverni,  the 
modern  Auvergne,  and  conciliated  or  purchased  the  good-will  of 
the  Gauls  in  that  region  so  far  that  he  not  only  found  friendly 
winter  quarters  among  them,  but  great  numbers  of  them  en-- 
listed  under  him  ;  and,  on  the  approach  of  spring,  marched  with 
him  to  invade  Italy. 

By  thus  entering  Gaul  at  the  southwest,  and  avoiding  its 
southern  maritime  districts,  Hasdrubal  kept  the  Romans  in 
complete  ignorance  of  his  precise  operations  and  movements 
in  that  country ;  all  that  they  knew  was  that  Hasdrubal  had 
baffled  Scipio's  attempts  to  detain  him  in  Spain ;  that  he  had 
crossed  the  Pyrenees  with  soldiers,  elephants,  and  money,  and 
that  he  was  raising  fresh  forces  among  the  Gauls.  The  spring 
was  sure  to  bring  him  into  Italy,  and  then  would  come  the  real 
tempest  of  the  war,  when  from  the  north  and  from  the  south 
the  two  Carthaginian  armies,  each  under  a  son  of  the  Thunder- 
bolt,! were  to  gather  together  around  the  seven  hills  of  Rome. 

In  this  emergency  the  Romans  looked  among  themselves 
earnestly  and  anxiously  for  leaders  fit  to  meet  the  perils  of  the 
coming  campaign. 

The  Senate  recorhmended  the  people  to  elect,  as  one  of  their 
consuls,  Gains  Claudius  Nero,  a  patrician  of  one  of  the  families 
of  the  great  Claudian  house.     Nero  had  served  during  the  pre- 

*  See  the  excellent  criticisms  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  on  this,  in  his 
"History  of  the  World,"  book  v.,  chap,  iii.,  sec.  11. 

t  Hamilcar  was  surnamed  Barcar,  which  means  the  Thunderbolt. 
Sultan  Bajazet  had  the  similar  surname  of  Yilderim. 


96  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

ceding  years  of  the  war  both  against  Hannibal  in  Italy  and 
against  Hasdrubal  in  Spain ;  but  it  is  remarkable  that  the  his- 
tories which  we  possess  record  no  successes  as  having  been 
achieved  by  him  either  before  or  after  his  great  campaign  of  the 
Metaurus.  It  proves  much  for  the  sagacity  of  the  leading  men 
of  the  senate  that  they  recognized  in  Nero  the  energy  and  spirit 
which  were  required  at  this  crisis,  and  it  is  equally  creditable  to 
the  patriotism  of  the  people  that  they  followed  the  advice  of  the 
senate  by  electing  a  general  who  had  no  showy  exploits  to  rec- 
ommend him  to  their  choice. 

It  was  a  matter  of  greater  difficulty  to  find  a  second  consul ; 
the  laws  required  that  one  consul  should  be  a  plebeian ;  and  the 
plebeian  nobility  had  been  fearfully  thinned  by  the  events  of 
the  war.  While  the  senators  anxiously  deliberated  among 
themselves  what  fit  colleague  for  Nero  could  be  nominated  at 
the  coming  comitia,  and  sorrowfully  recalled  the  names  of  Mar- 
cellus,  Gracchus,  and  other  plebeian  generals  who  were  no 
more,  one  taciturn  and  moody  old  man  sat  in  sullen  apathy 
among  the  conscript  fathers.  This  was  Marcus  Livius,  who 
had  been  consul  in  the  year  before  the  beginning  of  this  war, 
and  had  then  gained  a  victory  over  the  lUyrians.  After  his 
consulship  he  had  been  impeached  before  the  people  on  a  charge 
of  peculation  and  unfair  division  of  the  spoils  among  his  sol- 
diers ;  the  verdict  was  unjustly  given  against  him,  and  the  sense 
of  this  wrong,  and  of  the  indignity  thus  put  upon  him,  had 
rankled  unceasingly  in  the  bosom  of  Livius,  so  that  for  eight 
years  after  his  trial  he  had  lived  in  seclusion  in  his  country  seat, 
taking  no  part  in  any  afifairs  of  state.  Latterly  the  censors  had 
compelled  him  to  come  to  Rome  and  resume  his  place  in  the 
senate,  where  he  used  to  sit  gloomily  apart,  giving  only  a  silent 
vote.  At  last  an  unjust  accusation  against  one  of  his  near  kins- 
men made  him  break  silence,  and  he  harangued  the  house  in 
words  of  weight  and  sense,  which  drew  attention  to  him,  and 
taught  the  senators  that  a  strong  spirit  dwelt  beneath  that  un- 
imposing  exterior.  Now,  while  they  were  debating  on  what 
noble  of  a  plebeian  house  was  fit  to  assume  the  perilous  honors 
of  the  consulate,  some  of  the  elder  of  them  looked  on  Marcus 
Livius,  and  remembered  that  in  the  very  last  triumph  which 
had  been  celebrated  in  the  streets  of  Rome,  this  grim  old  man 
had  sat  in  the  car  of  victory,  and  that  he  had  ofifered  the  last 
thanksgiving  sacrifice  for  the  success  of  the  Roman  arms  which 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS 


97 


had  bled  before  Capitoline  Jove.  There  had  been  no  triumphs 
since  Hannibal  came  into  Italy.  The  Illyrian  campaign  of 
Livius  was  the  last  that  had  been  so  honored ;  perhaps  it  might 
be  destined  for  him  now  to  renew  the  long-interrupted  series. 
The  senators  resolved  that  Livius  should  be  put  in  nomination 
as  consul  with  Nero ;  the  people  were  willing  to  elect  him :  the 
only  opposition  came  from  himself.  He  taunted  them  with 
their  inconsistency  in  honoring  the  man  whom  they  had  con- 
victed of  a  base  crime.  "  If  I  am  innocent,"  said  he,  "  why  did 
you  place  such  a  stain  on  me  ?  If  I  am  guilty,  why  am  I  more 
fit  for  a  second  consulship  than  I  was  for  my  first  one  ?  "  The 
other  senators  remonstrated  with  him,  urging  the  example  of 
the  great  Camillus,  who,  after  an  unjust  condemnation  on  a 
similar  charge,  both  served  and  saved  his  country.  At  last 
Livius  ceased  to  object;  and  Caius  Claudius  Nero  and  Marcus 
Livius  were  chosen  consuls  of  Rome. 

A  quarrel  had  long  existed  between  the  two  consuls,  and  the 
senators  strove  to  effect  a  reconciliation  between  them  before 
the  campaign.  Here,  again,  Livius  for  a  long  time  obstinately 
resisted  the  wish  of  his  fellow-senators.  He  said  it  was  best  for 
the  state  that  he  and  Nero  should  continue  to  hate  one  another. 
Each  would  do  his  duty  better  when  he  knew  that  he  was 
watched  by  an  enemy  in  the  person  of  his  own  colleague.  At 
last  the  entreaties  of  the  senate  prevailed,  and  Livius  consented 
to  forego  the  feud,  and  to  co-operate  with  Nero  in  preparing 
for  the  coming  struggle. 

As  soon  as  the  winter  snows  were  thawed,  Hasdrubal  com- 
menced his  march  from  Auvergne  to  the  Alps.  He  experi- 
enced none  of  the  difficulties  which  his  brother  had  met  with 
from  the  mountain  tribes.  Hannibal's  army  had  been  the  first 
body  of  regular  troops  that  had  ever  traversed  their  regions ; 
and,  as  wild  animals  assail  a  traveller,  the  natives  rose  against  it 
instinctively,  in  imagined  defence  of  their  own  habitations, 
which  they  supposed  to  be  the  objects  of  Carthaginian  ambi- 
tion. But  the  fame  of  the  war,  with  which  Italy  had  now  been 
convulsed  for  twelve  years,  had  penetrated  into  the  Alpine 
passes,  and  the  mountaineers  now  understood  that  a  mighty 
city  southward  of  the  Alps  was  to  be  attacked  by  the  troops 
whom  they  saw  marching  among  them.  They  now  not  only 
opposed  no  resistance  to  the  passage  of  Hasdrubal,  but  many 
of  them,  out  of  love  of  enterprise  and  plunder,  or  allured  by  the 
7 


98  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

high  pay  that  he  offered,  took  service  with  him ;  and  thus  he 
advanced  upon  Italy  with  an  army  that  gathered  strength  at 
every  league.  It  is  said,  also,  that  some  of  the  most  important 
engineering  works  which  Hannibal  had  constructed  were  found 
by  Hasdrubal  still  in  existence,  and  materially  favored  the 
speed  of  his  advance.  He  thus  emerged  into  Italy  from  the 
Alpine  valleys  much  sooner  than  had  been  anticipated.  Many 
warriors  of  the  Ligurian  tribes  joined  him ;  and,  crossing  the 
River  Po,  he  marched  down  its  southern  bank  to  the  city  of 
Placentia,  which  he  wished  to  secure  as  a  base  for  his  future 
operations.  Placentia  resisted  him  as  bravely  as  it  had  resisted 
Hannibal  twelve  years  before,  and  for  some  time  Hasdrubal 
was  occupied  with  a  fruitless  siege  before  its  walls. 

Six  armies  were  levied  for  the  defence  of  Italy  when  the  long 
dreaded  approach  of  Hasdrubal  was  announced.  Seventy 
thousand  Romans  served  in  the  fifteen  legions,  of  which,  with 
an  equal  number  of  Italian  allies,  those  armies  and  the  garrisons 
were  composed.  Upwards  of  thirty  thousand  more  Romans 
were  serving  in  Sicily,  Sardinia,  and  Spain.  The  whole  num- 
ber of  Roman  citizens  of  an  age  fit  for  military  duty  scarcely 
exceeded  a  hundred  and  thirty  thousand.  The  census  taken 
before  the  commencement  of  the  war  had  shown  a  total  of  two 
hundred  and  seventy  thousand,  which  had  been  diminished  by 
more  than  half  during  twelve  years.  These  numbers  are  fear- 
fully emphatic  of  the  extremity  to  which  Rome  was  reduced, 
and  of  her  gigantic  efforts  in  that  great  agony  of  her  fate.  Not 
merely  men,  but  money  and  military  stores,  were  drained  to  the 
utmost,  and  if  the  armies  of  that  year  should  be  swept  off  by  a 
repetition  of  the  slaughters  of  Thrasymene  and  Cannas,  all  felt 
that  Rome  would  cease  to  exist.  Even  if  the  campaign  were  to 
be  marked  by  no  decisive  success  on  either  side,  her  ruin 
seemed  certain.  In  South  Italy,  Hannibal  had  either  detached 
Rome's  alHes  from  her,  or  had  impoverished  them  by  the  rav- 
ages of  his  army.  If  Hasdrubal  could  have  done  the  same  in 
Upper  Italy;  if  Etruria,  Umbria,  and  Northern  Latium  had 
either  revolted  or  been  laid  waste,  Rome  must  have  sunk  be- 
neath sheer  starvation,  for  the  hostile  or  desolated  territory 
would  have  yielded  no  supplies  of  corn  for  her  population,  and 
money  to  purchase  it  from  abroad  there  was  none.  Instant 
victory  was  a  matter  of  life  or  death.  Three  of  her  six  armies 
were  ordered  to  the  north,  but  the  first  of  these  was  required  to 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS 


99 


overawe  the  disaffected  Etruscan.  The  second  army  of  the 
north  was  pushed  forward,  under  Porcius,  the  praetor,  to  meet 
and  keep  in  check  the  advanced  troops  of  Hasdrubal ;  while  the 
third,  the  grand  army  of  the  north,  which  was  to  be  under  the 
immediate  command  of  the  consul  Livius,  who  had  the  chief 
command  in  all  North  Italy,  advanced  more  slowly  in  its  sup- 
port. There  were  similarly  three  armies  in  the  south,  under 
the  orders  of  the  other  consul,  Claudius  Nero. 

The  lot  had  decided  that  Livius  was  to  be  opposed  to  Has- 
drubal, and  that  Nero  should  face  Hannibal.  And  "  when  all 
was  ordered  as  themselves  thought  best,  the  two  consuls  went 
forth  of  the  city,  each  his  several  way.  The  people  of  Rome 
were  now  quite  otherwise  affected  than  they  had  been  when  L. 
^milius  Paulus  and  C.  Terentius  Varro  were  sent  against  Han- 
nibal. They  did  no  longer  take  upon  them  to  direct  their  gen- 
erals, or  bid  them  despatch  and  win  the  victory  betimes,  but 
rather  they  stood  in  fear  lest  all  diligence,  wisdom,  and  valor 
should  prove  too  little ;  for  since  few  years  had  passed  wherein 
some  one  of  their  generals  had  not  been  slain,  and  since  it  was 
manifest  that,  if  either  of  these  present  consuls  was  defeated, 
or  put  to  the  worst,  the  two  Carthaginians  would  forthwith  join, 
and  make  short  work  with  the  other,  it  seemed  a  greater  happi- 
ness than  could  be  expected  that  each  of  them  should  return 
home  victor,  and  come  off  with  honor  from  such  mighty  oppo- 
sition as  he  was  like  to  find.  With  extreme  difficulty  had 
Rome  held  up  her  head  ever  since  the  battle  of  Cannae ;  though 
it  were  so,  that  Hannibal  alone,  with  little  help  from  Carthage, 
had  continued  the  war  in  Italy.  But  there  was  now  arrived  an- 
other son  of  Hamilcar,  and  one  that,  in  his  present  expedition, 
had  seemed  a  man  of  more  sufficiency  than  Hannibal  himself; 
for  whereas,  in  that  long  and  dangerous  march  through  barbar- 
ous nations,  over  great  rivers  and  mountains  that  were  thought 
unpassable,  Hannibal  had  lost  a  great  part  of  his  army,  this 
Hasdrubal,  in  the  same  places,  had  multiplied  his  numbers,  and 
gathering  the  people  that  he  found  in  the  way,  descended  from 
the  Alps  like  a  rolling  snowball,  far  greater  than  he  came  over 
the  Pyrenees  at  his  first  setting  out  of  Spain.  These  considera- 
tions and  the  like,  of  which  fear  presented  many  unto  them, 
caused  the  people  of  Rome  to  wait  upon  their  consuls  out  of 
the  town,  like  a  pensive  train  of  mourners,  thinking  upon  Mar- 
cellus  and  Cnspinus,  upon  whom,  in  the  like  sort,  they  had 


lOo  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

given  attendance  the  last  year,  but  saw  neither  of  them  return 
ahve  from  a  less  dangerous  war.  Particularly  old  Q.  Fabius 
gave  his  accustomed  advice  to  M.  Livius,  that  he  should  ab- 
stain from  giving  or  taking  battle  until  he  well  understood 
the  enemy's  condition.  But  the  consul  made  him  a  froward 
answer,  and  said  that  he  would  fight  the  very  first  day,  for 
that  he  thought  it  long  till  he  should  either  recover  his  honor 
by  victory,  or,  by  seeing  the  overthrow  of  his  own  unjust  citi- 
zens, satisfy  himself  with  the  joy  of  a  great  though  not  an  hon- 
est revenge.    But  his  meaning  was  better  than  his  words."  * 

Hannibal  at  this  period  occupied  with  his  veteran  but  much- 
reduced  forces  the  extreme  south  of  Italy.  It  had  not  been 
expected  either  by  friend  or  foe  that  Hasdrubal  would  effect 
his  passage  of  the  Alps  so  early  in  the  year  as  actually  occurred. 
And  even  when  Hannibal  learned  that  his  brother  was  in  Italy, 
and  had  advanced  as  far  as  Placentia,  he  was  obliged  to  pause 
for  further  intelligence  before  he  himself  commenced  active 
operations,  as  he  could  not  tell  whether  his  brother  might  not 
be  invited  into  Etruria,  to  aid  the  party  there  that  was  disaf- 
fected to  Rome,  or  whether  he  would  march  down  by  the  Adri- 
atic Sea.  Hannibal  led  his  troops  out  of  their  winter  quarters 
in  Bruttium,  and  marched  northward  as  far  as  Canusium. 
Nero  had  his  head-quarters  near  Venusia,  with  an  army  which 
he  had  increased  to  forty  thousand  foot  and  two  thousand  five 
hundred  horse,  by  incorporating  under  his  own  command 
some  of  the  legions  which  had  been  intended  to  act  under  other 
generals  in  the  south.  There  was  another  Roman  army,  twen- 
ty thousand  strong,  south  of  Hannibal,  at  Tarentum.  The 
strength  of  that  city  secured  this  Roman  force  from  any  attack 
by  Hannibal,  and  it  was  a  serious  matter  to  march  northward 
and  leave  it  in  his  rear,  free  to  act  against  all  his  depots  and 
allies  in  the  friendly  part  of  Italy,  which  for  the  two  or  three  last 
campaigns  had  served  him  for  a  base  of  his  operations.  More- 
over, Nero's  army  was  so  strong  that  Hannibal  could  not  con- 
centrate troops  enough  to  assume  the  offensive  against  it  with- 
out weakening  his  garrisons,  and  relinquishing,  at  least  for  a 
time,  his  grasp  upon  the  southern  provinces.  To  do  this  be- 
fore he  was  certainly  informed  of  his  brother's  operations 
would  have  been  a  useless  sacrifice,  as  Nero  could  retreat  be- 
fore him  upon  the  other  Roman  armies  near  the  capital,  and 
*  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 


THE    BATTLE    OF   THE    METAURUS  "  loi 

Hannibal  knew  by  experience  that  a  mere  advance  of  his  army 
upon  the  walls  of  Rome  would  have  no  effect  on  the  fortunes 
of  the  war.  In  the  hope,  probably,  of  inducing  Nero  to  follow 
him  and  of  gaining  an  opportunity  of  out-manoeuvring  the 
Roman  consul  and  attacking  him  on  his  march,  Hannibal 
moved  into  Lucania,  and  then  back  into  Apulia ;  he  again 
marched  down  into  Bruttium,  and  strengthened  his  army  by  a 
levy  of  recruits  in  that  district.  Nero  followed  him,  but  gave 
him  no  chance  of  assailing  him  at  a  disadvantage.  Some  par- 
tial encounters  seem  to  have  taken  place ;  but  the  consul  could 
not  prevent  Hannibal's  junction  with  his  Bruttian  levies,  nor 
could  Hannibal  gain  an  opportunity  of  surprising  and  crush- 
ing the  consul.*  Hannibal  returned  to  his  former  head-quar- 
ters at  Canusium,  and  halted  there  in  expectation  of  further 
tidings  of  his  brother's  movements.  Nero  also  resumed  his 
former  position  in  observation  of  the  Carthaginian  army. 

Meanwhile,  Hasdrubal  had  raised  the  siege  of  Placentia,  and 
was  advancing  towards  Ariminum  on  the  Adriatic,  and  driving 
before  him  the  Roman  army  under  Porcius.  Nor  when  the 
consul  Livius  had  come  up,  and  united  the  second  and  third 
armies  of  the  north,  could  he  make  head  against  the  invaders. 
The  Romans  still  fell  back  before  Hasdrubal  beyond  Arim- 
inum, beyond  the  Metaurus,  and  as  far  as  the  little  town  of 
Sena,  to  the  southeast  of  that  river.  Hasdrubal  was  not  un- 
mindful of  the  necessity  of  acting  in  concert  with  his  brother. 
He  sent  messengers  to  Hannibal  to  announce  his  own  line  of 


*  The  annalists  whom  Livy  copied  spoke  of  Nero's  gaining  repeated 
victories  over  Hannibal,  and  killing  and  taking  his  men  by  tens  of 
thousands.  The  falsehood  of  all  this  is  self-evident.  It  Nero  could 
thus  always  beat  Hannibal,  the  Romans  would  not  have  been  in  such  an 
agony  of  dread  about  Hasdrubal  as  all  writers  describe.  Indeed,  we 
have  the  express  testimony  of  Polybius  that  the  statements  which  we 
read  in  Livy  of  Marcellus,  Nero,  and  others  gaining  victories  over  Han- 
nibal in  Italy,  must  be  all  fabrications  of  Roman  vanity.  Polybius 
states,  lib.  xv.,  sec.  l6,  that  Hannibal  was  never  defeated  before  the 
battle  of  Zama ;  and  in  another  passage,  book  ix.,  chap.  3,  he  mentions 
that  after  the  defeats  which  Hannibal  inflicted  on  the  Romans  in  the 
early  years  of  the  war,  they  no  longer  dared  face  his  army  in  a  pitched 
battle  on  a  fair  field,  and  yet  they  resolutely  maintained  the  war.  He 
rightly  explains  this  by  referring  to  the  superiority  of  Hannibal's 
cavalry,  the  arm  which  gained  him  all  his  victories.  By  keeping  within 
fortified  lines,  or  close  to  the  sides  of  the  mountains  when  Hannibal  ap- 
proached them,  the  Romans  rendered  his  cavalry  ineffective ;  and  a 
glance  at  the  geography  of  Italy  will  show  how  an  army  can  traverse 
the  greater  part  of  that  country  without  venturing  far  from  the  high 
grounds. 


IC2  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

march,  and  to  propose  that  they  should  unite  their  armies  in 
South  Umbria  and  then  wheel  round  against  Rome.  Those 
messengers  traversed  the  greater  part  of  Italy  in  safety,  but, 
when  close  to  the  object  of  their  mission,  were  captured  by  a 
Roman  detachment;  and  Hasdrubal's  letter,  detailing  his 
whole  plan  of  the  campaign,  was  laid,  not  in  his  brother's  hands, 
but  in  those  of  the  commander  of  the  Roman  armies  of  the 
south.  Nero  saw  at  once  the  full  importance  of  the  crisis.  The 
two  sons  of  Hamilcar  were  now  within  two  hundred  miles  of 
each  other,  and  if  Rome  were  to  be  saved,  the  brothers  must 
never  meet  alive.  Nero  instantly  ordered  seven  thousand 
picked  men,  a  thousand  being  cavalry,  to  hold  themselves  in 
readiness  for  a  secret  expedition  against  one  of  Hannibal's 
garrisons,  and  as  soon  as  night  had  set  in,  he  hurried  forward 
on  his  bold  enterprise;  but  he  quickly  left  the  southern  road 
towards  Lucania,  and,  wheeling  round,  pressed  northward  with 
the  utmost  rapidity  towards  Picenum.  He  had,  during  the  pre- 
ceding afternoon,  sent  messengers  to  Rome,  who  were  to  lay 
Hasdrubal's  letters  before  the  senate.  There  was  a  law  for- 
bidding a  consul  to  make  war  or  march  his  army  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  province  assigned  to  him ;  but  in  such  an  emer- 
gency, Nero  did  not  wait  for  the  permission  of  the  senate  to 
execute  his  project,  but  informed  them  that  he  was  already  on 
his  march  to  join  Livius  against  Hasdrubal,  He  advised  them 
to  send  the  two  legions  which  formed  the  home  garrison  on  to 
Narnia,  so  as  to  defend  that  pass  of  the  Flaminian  road  against 
Hasdrubal,  in  case  he  should  march  upon  Rome  before  the  con- 
sular armies  could  attack  him.  They  were  to  supply  the  place 
of  these  two  legions  at  Rome  by  a  levy  en  masse  in  the  city,  and 
by  ordering  up  the  reserve  legion  from  Capua.  These  were  his 
communications  to  the  senate.  He  also  sent  horsemen  for- 
ward along  his  line  of  march,  with  orders  to  the  local  authori- 
ties to  bring  stores  of  provisions  and  refreshment  of  every  kind 
to  the  road-side,  and  to  have  relays  of  carriages  ready  for  the 
conveyance  of  the  wearied  soldiers.  Such  were  the  precau- 
tions which  he  took  for  accelerating  his  march ;  and  when  he 
had  advanced  some  little  distance  from  his  camp,  he  briefly 
informed  his  soldiers  of  the  real  object  of  their  expedition.  He 
told  them  that  never  was  there  a  design  more  seemingly  au- 
dacious and  more  really  safe.  He  said  he  was  leading  them  to 
a  certain  victory,  for  his  colleague  had  an  army  large  enough 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    METAURUS  103 

to  balance  the  enemy  already,  so  that  their  swords  would  de- 
cisively turn  the  scale.  The  very  rumor  that  a  fresh  consul  and 
a  fresh  army  had  come  up,  when  heard  on  the  battle-field  (and 
he  would  take  care  that  they  should  not  be  heard  of  before  they 
were  seen  and  felt),  would  settle  the  business.  They  would 
have  all  the  credit  of  the  victory,  and  of  having  dealt  the  final 
decisive  blow.  He  appealed  to  the  enthusiastic  reception  which 
they  already  met  with  on  their  line  of  march  as  a  proof  and  an 
omen  of  their  good  fortune.*  And,  indeed,  their  whole  path 
was  amid  the  vows,  and  prayers,  and  praises  of  their  country- 
men. The  entire  population  of  the  districts  through  which 
they  passed  flocked  to  the  road-side  to  see  and  bless  the  de- 
liverers of  their  country.  Food,  drink,  and  refreshments  of 
every  kind  were  eagerly  pressed  on  their  acceptance.  Each 
peasant  thought  a  favor  was  conferred  on  him  if  one  of  Nero's 
chosen  band  would  accept  aught  at  his  hands.  The  soldiers 
caught  the  full  spirit  of  their  leader.  Night  and  day  they 
marched  forward,  taking  their  hurried  meals  in  the  ranks,  and 
resting  by  relays  in  the  wagons  which  the  zeal  of  the  country 
people  provided,  and  which  followed  in  the  rear  of  the  column. 
Meanwhile,  at  Rome,  the  news  of  Nero's  expedition  had 
caused  the  greatest  excitement  and  alarm.  All  men  felt  the 
full  audacity  of  the  enterprise,  but  hesitated  what  epithet  to 
apply  to  it.  It  was  evident  that  Nero's  conduct  would  be 
judged  of  by  the  event,  that  most  unfair  criterion,  as  the  Roman 
historian  truly  terms  it.f  People  reasoned  on  the  perilous 
state  in  which  Nero  had  left  the  rest  of  his  army,  without  a 
general,  and  deprived  of  the  core  of  its  strength,  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  terrible  Hannibal.  They  speculated  on  how  long  it 
would  take  Hannibal  to  pursue  and  overtake  Nero  himself, 
and  his  expeditionary  force.  They  talked  over  the  former  dis- 
asters of  the  war,  and  the  fall  of  both  the  consuls  of  the  last 
year.  All  these  calamities  had  come  on  them  while  they  had 
only  one  Carthaginian  general  and  army  to  deal  with  in  Italy. 
Now  they  had  two  Punic  wars  at  a  time.  They  had  two 
Carthaginian  armies,  they  had  almost  two  Hannibals  in  Italy. 
Hasdrubal  was  sprung  from  the  same  father ;  trained  up  in  the 
same  hostility  to  Rome;  equally  practised  in  battle  against 

*  Livy,  lib.  xxvii.,  c.  45. 

t  "  Adparebat  (quo  nihil  iniquius  est)  ex  eventu  faman  habiturum." — 
LiVY,  lib.  xxvii.,  c.  44. 


104  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

their  legions ;  and,  if  the  comparative  speed  and  success  with 
which  he  had  crossed  the  Alps  was  a  fair  test,  he  was  even  a  bet- 
ter general  than  his  brother.  With  fear  for  their  interpreter  of 
every  rumor,  they  exaggerated  the  strength  of  their  enemy's 
forces  in  every  quarter,  and  criticised  and  distrusted  their  own. 

Fortunately  for  Rome,  while  she  was  thus  a  prey  to  terror 
and  anxiety,  her  consul's  nerves  were  stout  and  strong,  and 
he  resolutely  urged  on  his  march  towards  Sena,  where  his  col- 
league Livius  and  the  praetor  Porcius  were  encamped,  Has- 
drubal's  army  being  in  position  about  half  a  mile  to  their  north, 
Nero  had  sent  couriers  forward  to  apprise  his  colleague  of  his 
project  and  of  his  approach  ;  and  by  the  advice  of  Livius,  Nero 
so  timed  his  final  march  as  to  reach  the  camp  at  Sena  by  night. 
According  to  a  previous  arrangement,  Nero's  men  were  re- 
ceived silently  into  the  tents  of  their  comrades,  each  according 
to  his  rank.  By  these  means  there  was  no  enlargement  of  the 
camp  that  could  betray  to  Hasdrubal  the  accession  of  force 
which  the  Romans  had  received.  This  was  considerable,  as 
Nero's  numbers  had  been  increased  on  the  march  by  the  volun- 
teers, who  offered  themselves  in  crowds,  and  from  whom  he 
selected  the  most  promising  men,  and  especially  the  veterans 
of  former  campaigns.  A  council  of  war  was  held  on  the  morn- 
ing after  his  arrival,  in  which  some  advised  that  time  should  be 
given  for  Nero's  men  to  refresh  themselves  after  the  fatigue  of 
such  a  march.  But  Nero  vehemently  opposed  all  delay.  "  The 
officer,"  said  he,  "  who  is  for  giving  time  to  my  men  here  to 
rest  themselves,  is  for  giving  time  to  Hannibal  to  attack  my 
men  whom  I  have  left  in  the  camp  in  Apulia.  He  is  for  giving 
time  to  Hannibal  and  Hasdrubal  to  discover  my  march,  and 
to  mancEuvre  for  a  junction  with  each  other  in  Cisalpine  Gaul 
at  their  leisure.  We  must  fight  instantly,  while  both  the  foe 
here  and  the  foe  in  the  south  are  ignorant  of  our  movements. 
We  must  destroy  this  Hasdrubal,  and  I  must  be  back  in  Apulia 
before  Hannibal  awakes  from  his  torpor."  *  Nero's  advice 
prevailed.  It  was  resolved  to  fight  directly;  and  before  the 
consuls  and  praetor  left  the  tent  of  Livius,  the  red  ensign,  which 
was  the  signal  to  prepare  for  immediate  action,  was  hoisted, 
and  the  Romans  forthwith  drew  up  in  battle  array  outside  the 
camp. 

Hasdrubal  had  been  anxious  to  bring  Livius  and  Porcius 
*  Livy,  lib.  xxvii.,  c.  46. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    METAURUS  105 

to  battle,  though  he  had  not  judged  it  expedient  to  attack  them 
in  their  Hnes.  And  now,  on  hearing  that  the  Romans  offered 
battle,  he  also  drew  up  his  men,  and  advanced  towards  them. 
No  spy  or  deserter  had  informed  him  of  Nero's  arrival,  nor  had 
he  received  any  direct  information  that  he  had  more  than  his 
old  enemies  to  deal  with.  But  as  he  rode  forward  to  reconnoi- 
tre the  Roman  line,  he  thought  that  their  numbers  seemed  to 
have  increased,  and  that  the  armor  of  some  of  them  was  un- 
usually dull  and  stained.  He  noticed,  also,  that  the  horses  of 
some  of  the  cavalry  appeared  to  be  rough  and  out  of  condition, 
as  if  they  had  just  come  from  a  succession  of  forced  marches. 
So  also,  though,  owing  to  the  precaution  of  Livius,  the  Roman 
camp  showed  no  change  of  size,  it  had  not  escaped  the  quick 
ear  of  the  Carthaginian  general  that  the  trumpet  which  gave 
the  signal  to  the  Roman  legions  sounded  that  morning  once 
oftener  than  usual,  as  if  directing  the  troops  of  some  additional 
superior  officer.  Hasdrubal,  from  his  Spanish  campaigns,  was 
well  acquainted  with  all  the  sounds  and  signals  of  Roman  war, 
and  from  all  that  he  heard  and  saw,  he  felt  convinced  that  both 
the  Roman  consuls  were  before  him.  In  doubt  and  difficulty 
as  to  what  might  have  taken  place  between  the  armies  of  the 
south,  and  probably  hoping  that  Hannibal  also  was  approach- 
ing, Hasdrubal  determined  to  avoid  an  encounter  with  the 
combined  Roman  forces,  and  to  endeavor  to  retreat  upon  In- 
subrian  Gaul,  where  he  would  be  in  a  friendly  country,  and 
could  endeavor  to  reopen  his  communication  with  his  brother. 
He  therefore  led  his  troops  back  into  their  camp ;  and  as  the 
Romans  did  not  venture  on  an  assault  upon  his  intrenchments, 
and  Hasdrubal  did  not  choose  to  commejnce  his  retreat  in  their 
sight,  the  day  passed  away  in  inaction.  At  the  first  watch  of 
the  night,  Hasdrubal  led  his  men  silently  out  of  their  camp,  and 
moved  northward  towards  the  Metaurus,  in  the  hope  of  placing 
that  river  between  himself  and  the  Romans  before  his  retreat 
was  discovered.  His  guides  betrayed  him ;  and  having  pur- 
posely led  him  away  from  the  part  of  the  river  that  was  ford- 
able,  they  made  their  escape  in  the  dark,  and  left  Hasdrubal 
and  his  army  wandering  in  confusion  along  the  steep  bank,  and 
seeking  in  vain  for  a  spot  where  the  stream  could  be  safely 
crossed.  At  last  they  halted  ;  and  when  day  dawned  on  them, 
Hasdrubal  found  that  great  numbers  of  his  men,  in  their  fa- 
tigue and  impatience,  had  lost  all  discipline  and  subordina- 


io6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

tion,  and  that  many  of  his  GalHc  auxiliaries  had  got  drunk, 
and  were  lying  helpless  in  their  quarters.  The  Roman  cavalry 
was  soon  seen  coming  up  in  pursuit,  followed  at  no  great  dis- 
tance by  the  legions,  which  marched  in  readiness  for  an  instant 
engagement.  It  was  hopeless  for  Hasdrubal  to  think  of  con- 
tinuing his  retreat  before  them.  The  prospect  of  immediate 
battle  might  recall  the  disordered  part  of  his  troops  to  a  sense 
of  duty,  and  revive  the  instinct  of  discipline.  He  therefore 
ordered  his  men  to  prepare  for  action  instantly,  and  made  the 
best  arrangement  of  them  that  the  nature  of  the  ground  would 

permit. 

Heeren   has  well   described  the   general  appearance   of  a 
Carthaginian  army.     He  says,  "  It  was  an  assemblage  of  the 
most  opposite  races  of  the  human  species  from  the  farthest 
parts  of  the  globe.    Hordes  of  half-naked  Gauls  were  ranged 
next  to  companies  of  white-clothed  Iberians,  and  savage  Li- 
gurians  next  to  the  far-travelled  Nasamones  and  Lotophagi. 
Carthaginians  and  Phoenici-Africans  formed  the  centre,  while 
innumerable  troops  of  Numidian  horsemen,  taken  from  all  the 
tribes  of  the  Desert,  swarmed  about  on  unsaddled  horses,  and 
formed  the  wings ;  the  van  was  composed  of  Balearic  slingers ; 
and  a  line  of  colossal  elephants,  with  their  Ethiopian  guides, 
formed,  as  it  were,  a  chain  of  moving  fortresses  before  the  whole 
army."    Such  were  the  usual  materials  and  arrangements  of  the 
hosts  that  fought  for  Carthage ;  but  the  troops  under  Hasdru- 
bal were  not  in  all  respects  thus  constituted  or  thus  stationed. 
He  seems  to  have  been  especially  deficient  in  cavalry,  and  he 
had  few  African  troops,  though  some  Carthaginians  of  high 
rank  were  with  him.    His  veteran  Spanish  infantry,  armed  with 
helmets  and  shields,  and  short  cut-and-thrust  swords,  were  the 
best  part  of  his  army.    These,  and  his  few  Africans,  he  drew 
up  on  his  right  wing,  under  his  own  personal  command.     In 
the  centre  he  placed  his  Ligurian  infantry,  and  on  the  left  wing 
he  placed  or  retained  the  Gauls,  who  were  armed  with  long 
javelins  and  with  huge  broad-swords  and  targets.    The  rugged 
nature  of  the  ground  in  front  and  on  the  flank  of  this  part  oi 
his  line  made  him  hope  that  the  Roman  right  wing  would  be 
unable  to  come  to  close  quarters  with  these  unserviceable  bar- 
barians before  he  could  make  some  impression  with  his  Span- 
ish veterans  on  the  Roman  left.     This  was  the  only  chance 
that  he  had  of  victory  or  safety,  and  he  seems  to  have  done 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    METAURUS  107 

everything  that  good  generalship  could  do  to  secure  it  He 
placed  his  elephants  in  advance  of  his  centre  and  right  wing. 
He  had  caused  the  driver  of  each  of  them  to  be  provided  with 
a  sharp  iron  spike  and  a  mallet,  and  had  given  orders  that  every 
beast  that  became  unmanageable,  and  ran  back  upon  his  own 
ranks,  should  be  instantly  killed,  by  driving  the  spike  into  the 
vertebra  at  the  junction  of  the  head  and  the  spine.  Hasdrubal's 
elephants  were  ten  in  number.  We  have  no  trustworthy  in- 
formation as  to  the  amount  of  his  infantry,  but  it  is  quite  clear 
that  he  was  greatly  outnumbered  by  the  combined  Roman 
forces. 

The  tactics  of  the  Roman  legions  had  not  yet  acquired  that 
perfection  which  it  received  from  the  military  genius  of  Mar- 
ius,*  and  which  we  read  of  in  the  first  chapter  of  Gibbon.  We 
possess,  in  that  great  work,  an  account  of  the  Roman  legions 
at  the  end  of  the  commonwealth,  and  during  the  early  ages  of 
the  empire,  which  those  alone  can  adequately  admire  who  have 
attempted  a  similar  description.  We  have  also,  in  the  sixth 
and  seventeenth  books  of  Polybius,  an  elaborate  discussion 
on  the  military  system  of  the  Romans  in  his  time,  which  was 
not  far  distant  from  the  time  of  the  battle  of  the  Metaurus.  But 
the  subject  is  beset  with  difficulties ;  and  instead  of  entering 
into  minute  bv;t  inconclusive  details,  I  would  refer  to  Gibbon's 
first  chapter  as  serving  for  a  general  description  of  the  Roman 
army  in  its  period  of  perfection,  and  remark,  that  the  training 
and  armor  which  the  whole  legion  received  in  the  time  of  Au- 
gustus was,  two  centuries  earlier,  only  partially  introduced. 
Two  divisions  of  troops,  called  Hastati  and  Principes,  formed 
the  bulk  of  each  Roman  legion  in  the  second  Punic  war.  Each 
of  these  divisions  was  twelve  hundred  strong.  The  Hastatus 
and  the  Princeps  legionary  bore  a  breast-plate  or  coat  of  mail, 
brazen  greaves,  and  a  brazen  helmet,  with  a  lofty  upright  crest 
of  scarlet  or  black  feathers.  He  had  a  large  oblong  shield ; 
and,  as  weapons  of  offence,  two  javelins,  one  of  which  was  light 
and  slender,  but  the  other  was  a  strong  and  massive  weapon, 
with  a  shaft  about  four  feet  long,  and  an  iron  head  of  equal 
length.  The  sword  was  carried  on  the  right  thigh,  and  was  a 
short  cut-and-thrust  weapon,  like  that  which  was  used  by  the 

*  Most  probably  during  the  period  of  his  prolonged  consulship,  from 
B.C.  104  to  B.C.  loi,  while  he  was  training  his  army  against  the  Cimbri 
and  the  Teutons. 


io8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Spaniards.  Thus  armed,  the  Hastati  formed  the  front  division 
of  the  legion,  and  the  Principes  the  second.  Each  division  was 
drawn  up  about  ten  deep,  a  space  of  three  feet  being  allowed 
between  the  files  as  well  as  the  ranks,  so  as  to  give  each  legion- 
ary ample  room  for  the  use  of  his  javelins,  and  of  his  sword 
and  shield.  The  men  in  the  second  rank  did  not  stand  imme- 
diately behind  those  in  the  first  rank,  but  the  files  were  alter- 
nate, like  the  position  of  the  men  on  a  draught-board.  This 
was  termed  the  quincunx  order.  Niebuhr  considers  that  this 
arrangement  enabled  the  legion  to  keep  up  a  shower  of 
javelins  on  the  enemy  for  some  considerable  time.  He  says, 
"  When  the  first  line  had  hurled  its  pila,  it  probably  stepped 
back  between  those  who  stood  behind  it,  and  two  steps  forward 
restored  the  front  nearly  to  its  first  position;  a  movement 
which,  on  account  of  the  arrangement  of  the  quincunx,  could 
be  executed  without  losing  a  moment.  Thus  one  line  suc- 
ceeded the  other  in  the  front  till  it  was  time  to  draw  the  swords ; 
nay,  when  it  was  found  expedient,  the  lines  which  had  already 
been  in  the  front  might  repeat  this  change,  since  the  stores  of 
pila  were  surely  not  confined  to  the  two  which  each  soldier 
took  with  him  into  battle. 

"  The  same  change  must  have  taken  place  in  fighting  with 
the  sword,  which  when  the  same  tactic  was  adopted  on  both 
sides,  was  anything  but  a  confused  mclcc ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
was  a  series  of  single  combats."  He  adds,  that  a  military  man 
of  experience  had  been  consulted  by  him  on  the  subject,  and 
had  given  it  as  his  opinion  "  that  the  change  of  the  lines  as  de- 
scribed above  was  by  no  means  impracticable;  but,  in  the 
absence  of  the  deafening  noise  of  gunpowder,  it  cannot  have 
had  even  any  difficulty  with  well-trained  troops." 

The  third  division  of  the  legion  was  six  hundred  strong  and 
acted  as  a  reserve.  It  was  always  composed  of  veteran  soldiers, 
who  were  called  the  Triarii.  Their  arms  were  the  same  as 
these  of  the  Principes  and  Hastati,  except  that  each  Triarian 
carried  a  spear  instead  of  javelins.  The  rest  of  the  legion  con- 
sisted of  light-armed  troops,  who  acted  as  skirmishers.  The 
cavalry  of  each  legion  was  at  this  period  about  three  hundred 
strong.  The  Italian  allies,  who  were  attached  to  the  legion, 
seem  to  have  been  similarly  armed  and  equipped,  but  their 
numerical  proportion  of  cavalry  was  much  larger. 

Such  was  the  nature  of  the  forces  that  advanced  on  the 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    METAURUS  109 

Roman  side  to  the  battle  of  the  Metaurus.  Nero  commanded 
the  right  wing,  Livius  the  left,  and  the  praetor  Porcius  had  the 
command  of  the  centre.  "  Both  Romans  and  Carthaginians 
well  understood  how  much  depended  upon  the  fortune  of  this 
day,  and  how  little  hope  of  safety  there  was  for  the  vanquished. 
Only  the  Romans  herein  seemed  to  have  had  the  better  in  con- 
ceit and  opinion  that  they  were  to  fight  with  men  desirous  to 
have  fled  from  them  ;  and  according  to  this  presumption  came 
Livius  the  consul,  with  a  proud  bravery,  to  give  charge  on  the 
Spaniards  and  Africans,  by  whom  he  was  so  sharply  enter- 
tained that  the  victory  seemed  very  doubtful.  The  Africans 
and  Spaniards  were  stout  soldiers,  and  well  acquainted  with 
the  manner  of  the  Roman  fight.  The  Ligurians,  also,  were  a 
hardy  nation,  and  not  accustomed  to  give  ground,  which  they 
needed  the  less,  or  were  able  now  to  do,  being  placed  in  the 
midst.  Livius,  therefore,  and  Porcius  found  great  opposition ; 
and  with  great  slaughter  on  both  sides  prevailed  little  or  noth- 
ing. Besides  other  difficulties,  they  were  exceedingly  troubled 
by  the  elephants,  that  brake  their  first  ranks,  and  put  them  in 
such  disorder  as  the  Roman  ensigns  were  driven  to  fall  back ; 
all  this  while  Claudius  Nero,  laboring  in  vain  against  a  steep 
hill,  was  unable  to  come  to  blows  with  the  Gauls  that  stood 
opposite  him,  but  out  of  danger.  This  made  Hasdrubal  the 
more  confident,  who,  seeing  his  own  left  wing  safe,  did  the 
more  boldly  and  fiercely  make  impression  on  the  other  side 
upon  the  left  wing  of  the  Romans."* 

But  at  last  Nero,  who  found  that  Hasdrubal  refused  his  left 
wing,  and  who  could  not  overcome  the  difficulties  of  the 
ground  in  the  quarter  assigned  to  him,  decided  the  battle  by 
another  stroke  of  that  military  genius  which  had  inspired  his 
march.  Wheeling  a  brigade  of  his  best  men  round  the  rear 
of  the  rest  of  the  Roman  army,  Nero  fiercely  charged  the 
flank  of  the  Spaniards  and  Africans.  The  charge  was  as  suc- 
cessful as  it  was  sudden.  Rolled  back  in  disorder  upon  each 
other,  and  overwhelmed  by  numbers,  the  Spaniards  and  Li- 
gurians died,  fighting  gallantly  to  the  last.  The  Gauls,  who 
had  taken  little  or  no  part  in  the  strife  of  the  day,  were  then 
iurrounded,  and  butchered  almost  without  resistance.  Has- 
drubal, after  having,  by  the  confession  of  his  enemies,  done  all 
that  a  general  could  do,  when  he  saw  that  the  victory  was  ir- 
*  "  Historic  of  the  World,"  by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  p.  946- 


no  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

reparably  lost,  scorning  to  survive  the  gallant  host  which  he 
had  led,  and  to  gratify,  as  a  captive,  Roman  cruelty  and  pride, 
spurred  his  horse  into  the  midst  of  a  Roman  cohort,  and,  sword 
in  hand,  met  the  death  that  was  worthy  of  the  son  of  Hamilcar 
and  the  brother  of  Hannibal. 

Success  the  most  complete  had  crowned  Nero's  enterprise. 
Returning  as  rapidly  as  he  had  advanced,  he  was  again  facing 
the  inactive  enemies  in  the  south  before  they  even  knew  of  his 
march.  But  he  brought  with  him  a  ghastly  trophy  of  what 
he  had  done.  In  the  true  spirit  of  that  savage  brutality  which 
deformed  the  Roman  national  character,  Nero  ordered  Has- 
drubal's  head  to  be  flung  into  his  brother's  camp.  Ten  years 
had  passed  since  Hannibal  had  last  gazed  on  those  features. 
The  sons  of  Hamilcar  had  then  planned  their  system  of  war- 
fare against  Rome  which  they  had  so  nearly  brought  to  success- 
ful accomplishment.  Year  after  year  had  Hannibal  been  strug- 
gling in  Italy,  in  the  hope  of  one  day  hailing  the  arrival  of  him 
whom  he  had  left  in  Spain,  and  of  seeing  his  brother's  eye  flash 
with  affection  and  pride  at  the  junction  of  their  irresistible 
hosts.  He  now  saw  that  eye  glazed  in  death,  and  in  the  agony 
of  his  heart  the  great  Carthaginian  groaned  aloud  that  he  rec- 
ognized his  country's  destiny. 

With  the  revival  of  confidence  came  also  the  revival  of  ac- 
tivity in  traffic  and  commerce,  and  in  all  the  busy  intercourse 
of  daily  life.  Hannibal  was,  certainly,  still  in  the  land ;  but  all 
felt  that  his  power  to  destroy  was  broken,  and  that  the  crisis 
of  the  war  fever  was  past.  Hannibal  did  actually,  with  almost 
superhuman  skill,  retain  his  hold  on  Southern  Italy  for  a  few 
years  longer;  but  the  imperial  city  and  her  allies  were  no  longer 
in  danger  from  his  arms,  and,  after  Hannibal's  downfall,  the 
great  military  republic  of  the  ancient  world  met  in  her  career 
of  conquest  no  other  worthy  competitor.  Byron  has  termed 
Nero's  march  "  unequalled,"  and  in  the  magnitude  of  its  con- 
sequences it  is  so.  Viewed  only  as  a  military  exploit,  it  re- 
mains unparalleled,  save  by  Marlborough's  bold  march  from 
Flanders  to  the  Danube,  in  the  campaign  of  Blenheim,  and 
perhaps  also  by  the  Archduke  Charles's  lateral  march  in  1796, 
by  which  he  overwhelmed  the  French  under  Jourdain,  and 
then,  driving  Moreau  through  the  Black  Forest  and  across  the 
Rhine,  for  a  while  freed  Germanv  from  her  invaders. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    METAURUS  iii 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  the  Metaurus, 

B.C.  207,  AND  ArMINIUS'  VICTORY  OVER  THE  ROMAN  LegIONS 

UNDER  Varus,  a.d.  9. 

B.C.  205  to  201.  Scipio  is  made  consul,  and  carries  the  war 
into  Africa.  He  gains  several  victories  there,  and  the  Cartha- 
ginians recall  Hannibal  from  Italy  to  oppose  him.  Battle  of 
Zama  is  201.  Hannibal  is  defeated,  and  Carthage  sues  for 
peace.  End  of  the  second  Punic  war,  leaving  Rome  confirmed 
in  the  dominion  of  Italy,  Sicily,  Sardinia,  and  Corsica,  and 
also  mistress  of  great  part  of  Spain,  and  virtually  predominant 
in  North  Africa. 

200.  Rome  makes  war  upon  Philip,  king  of  Macedonia. 
She  pretends  to  take  the  Greek  cities  of  the  Achaean  league  and 
the  yEtolians  under  her  protection  as  allies.  Philip  is  defeated 
by  the  proconsul  Flaminius  at  Cynoscephalae,  198,  and  begs 
for  peace.  The  Macedonian  influence  is  now  completely  de- 
stroyed in  Greece,  and  the  Roman  established  in  its  stead, 
though  Rome  pretends  to  acknowledge  the  independence  of 
the  Greek  cities. 

194.  Rome  makes  war  upon  Antiochus,  king  of  Syria.  He 
is  completely  defeated  at  the  battle  of  Magnesia,  192,  and  is 
glad  to  accept  peace  on  conditions  which  leave  him  dependent 
upon  Rome. 

200 — 190.  "  Thus  within  the  short  space  of  ten  years,  was 
laid  the  foundation  of  the  Roman  authority  in  the  East,  and 
the  general  state  of  affairs  entirely  changed.  If  Rome  was  not 
yet  the  ruler,  she  was  at  least  the  arbitress  of  the  world  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Euphrates.  The  power  of  the  three  prin- 
cipal states  was  so  completely  humbled,  that  they  durst  not, 
without  the  permission  of  Rome,  begin  any  new  war;  the 
fourth,  Egypt,  had  already,  in  the  year  201,  placed  herself 
under  the  guardianship  of  Rome ;  and  the  lesser  powers  fol- 
lowed of  themselves,  esteeming  it  an  honor  to  be  called  the 
allies  of  Rome.  With  this  name  the  nations  were  lulled  into 
security,  and  brought  under  the  Roman  yoke  ;  the  new  political 
system  of  Rome  was  founded  and  strengthened,  partly  by  ex- 
citing and  supporting  the  weaker  states  against  the  stronger, 
however  unjust  the  cause  of  the  former  might  be,  and  partly 
by  factions  which  she  found  means  to  raise  in  every  state,  even 
the  smallest." — (Heeren.) 


112  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

172.  War  renewed  between  Macedon  and  Rome.  Decisive 
defeat  of  Perses,  the  Macedonian  king,  by  Paulus  ^ILmilius  at 
Pydna,  168.     Destruction  of  the  Macedonian  monarchy. 

150.  Rome  oppresses  the  Carthaginians  till  they  are  driven 
to  take  up  arms,  and  the  third  Punic  war  begins.  Carthage  is 
taken  and  destroyed  by  Scipio  ^milianus,  146,  and  the  Car- 
thaginian territory  is  made  a  Roman  province. 

146.  In  the  same  year  in  which  Carthage  falls,  Corinth  is 
stormed  by  the  Roman  army  under  Mummius.  The  Achaean 
league  had  been  goaded  into  hostilities  with  Rome  by  means 
similar  to  those  employed  against  Carthage.  The  greater  part 
of  Southern  Greece  is  made  a  Roman  province  under  the  name 
of  Achaia. 

133.  Numantium  is  destroyed  by  Scipio  ^milianus.  "  The 
war  against  the  Spaniards,  who,  of  all  the  nations  subdued  by 
the  Romans,  defended  their  liberty  with  the  greatest  obstinacy, 
began  in  the  year  200,  six  years  after  the  total  expulsion  of  the 
Carthaginians  from  their  country,  206.  It  was  exceedingly 
obstinate,  partly  from  the  natural  state  of  the  country,  which 
was  thickly  populated,  and  where  every  place  became  a  fortress ; 
partly  from  the  courage  of  the  inhabitants ;  but  above  all,  ow- 
ing to  the  peculiar  policy  of  the  Romans,  who  were  wont  to  em- 
ploy their  allies  to  subdue  other  nations.  This  war  continued, 
almost  without  interruption,  from  the  year  200  to  133,  and 
was  for  the  most  part  carried  on  at  the  same  time  in  Hispania 
Citerior,  where  the  Celtiberi  were  the  most  formidable  ad- 
versaries, and  in  Hispania  Ulterior,  where  the  Lusitani  were 
equally  powerful.  Hostilities  were  at  the  highest  pitch  in  195, 
under  Cato,  who  reduced  Hispania  Citerior  to  a  state  of  tran- 
quillity in  185 — 179,  when  the  Celtiberi  were  attacked  in  their 
native  territory ;  and  155 — 150,  when  the  Romans  in  both  prov- 
inces were  so  often  beaten,  that  nothing  was  more  dreaded  by 
the  soldiers  at  home  than  to  be  sent  there.  The  extortions  and 
perfidy  of  Servius  Galbis  placed  Viriathus,  in  the  year  146,  at 
the  head  of  his  nation,  the  Lusitanis :  the  war,  however,  soon 
extended  itself  to  Hispania  Citerior,  where  many  nations,  par- 
ticularly the  Numantines,  took  up  arms  against  Rome,  143. 
Viriathus,  sometimes  victorious  and  sometimes  defeated,  was 
never  more  formidable  than  in  the  moment  of  defeat,  because 
he  knew  how  to  take  advantage  of  his  knowledge  of  the  country 
and  of  Ihe  dispositions  of  his  countrymen.     After  his  murder, 


THE    BATTLE    OF   THE    METAURUS  113 

caused  by  the  treachery  of  Csepio,  140,  Lusitania  was  subdued ; 
but  the  Numantine  war  became  still  more  violent,  and  the  Nu- 
mantines  compelled  the  consul  Mancinus  to  a  disadvantageous 
treaty,  137.  When  Scipio,  in  the  year  133,  put  an  end  to  this 
war,  Spain  was  certainly  tranquil ;  the  northern  parts,  however, 
were  still  unsubdued,  though  the  Romans  penetrated  as  far  as 
Galatia." — (Heeren.) 

134.  Commencement  of  the  revolutionary  century  at  Rome, 
i.e.,  from  the  time  of  the  excitement  produced  by  the  attempts 
made  by  the  Gracchi  to  reform  the  commonwealth,  to  the  battle 
of  Actium  (B.C.  31),  which  estabhshed  Octavianus  Caesar  as 
sole  master  of  the  Roman  world.  Throughout  this  period 
Rome  was  engaged  in  important  foreign  wars,  most  of  which 
procured  large  accessions  to  her  territory. 

118 — 106.  The  Jugurthine  war.  Numidia  is  conquered,  and 
made  a  Roman  conquest. 

113 — loi.  The  great  and  terrible  war  of  the  Cimbri  and  Teu- 
tones  against  Rome.  These  nations  of  northern  warriors 
slaughter  several  Roman  armies  in  Gaul,  and  in  102  attempt  to 
penetrate  into  Italy.  The  military  genius  of  Marius  here  saves 
his  country ;  he  defeats  the  Teutones  near  Aix,  in  Provence ; 
and  in  the  following  year  he  destroys  the  army  of  the  Cimbri, 
who  had  passed  the  Alps,  near  Vercellse. 

91 — 88.  The  war  of  the  Italian  allies  against  Rome.  This  was 
caused  by  the  refusal  of  Rome  to  concede  to  them  the  rights  of 
Roman  citizenship.  After  a  sanguinary  struggle,  Rome  grad- 
ually concedes  it. 

89 — 85.  First  war  of  the  Romans  against  Mithridates  the 
Great,  king  of  Pontus,  who  had  overrun  Asia  Minor,  Mace- 
donia, and  Greece.  Sylla  defeats  his  armies,  and  forces  him  to 
withdraw  his  forces  from  Europe.  Sylla  returns  to  Rome  to 
carry  on  the  civil  war  against  the  son  and  partisans  of  Marius. 
He  makes  himself  dictator. 

74 — 64.  The  last  Mithridatic  wars.  Lucullus,  and  after  him 
Pompeius,  command  against  the  great  king  of  Pontus,  who  at 
last  is  poisoned  by  his  son,  while  designing  to  raise  the  warlike 
tribes  of  the  Danube  against  Rome,  and  to  invade  Italy  from 
the  northeast.  Great  Asiatic  conquests  of  the  Romans.  Be- 
sides the  ancient  province  of  Pergamus,  the  maritime  countries 
of  Eithynia  and  nearly  all  Paphlagonia  and  Pontus,  are  formed 
into  a  Roman  province  under  the  name  of  Bithynia,  while  on 
8 


114  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

the  southern  coast  Cihcia  and  PamphyHa  form  another  under 
the  name  of  CiHcia ;  Phoenicia  and  Syria  compose  a  third,  under 
the  name  of  Syria.  On  the  other  hand,  Great  Armenia  is  left 
to  Tigranes ;  Cappadocia  to  Ariobarzanes ;  the  Bosphorus  to 
Pharnaces ;  Judaea  to  Hyrcanus ;  and  some  other  small  states 
are  also  given  to  petty  princes,  all  of  whom  remain  dependent 
on  Rome. 

58 — 50.  Caesar  conquers  Gaul. 

54.  Crassus  attacks  the  Parthians  with  a  Roman  army,  but 
is  overthrown  and  killed  at  Carrhae  in  Mesopotamia.  His  lieu- 
tenant Cassius  collects  the  wrecks  of  the  army,  and  prevents 
the  Parthians  from  conquering  Syria. 

49 — 45.  The  civil  war  between  Caesar  and  the  Pompeian 
party.  Egypt,  Mauritania,  and  Pontus  are  involved  in  the  con- 
sequences of  this  war. 

44.  Caesar  is  killed  in  the  Capitol ;  the  civil  wars  are  soon  re- 
newed. 

42.  Death  of  Brutus  and  Cassius  at  Philippi. 

31.  Death  of  Antony  and  Cleopatra.  Egypt  becomes  a  Ro- 
man province,  and  Augustus  Caesar  is  left  undisputed  master  of 
Rome,  and  all  that  is  Rome's. 


CHAPTER  V. 

VICTORY  OF  ARMINIUS   OVER  THE  ROMAN 
LEGIONS   UNDER   VARUS,  a.d.  9. 

"  Hac  clade  factum,  ut  Imperium  quod  in  littore  oceani  non  stetcrat, 
in  ripa  Rheni  fluminis  staret." — Florus. 

TO  a  truly  illustrious  Frenchman,  whose  reverses  as  a 
minister  can  never  obscure  his  achievements  in  the 
world  of  letters,  we  are  indebted  for  the  most  pro- 
found and  most  eloquent  estimate  that  we  possess  of  the  im- 
portance of  the  Germanic  element  in  European  civilization, 
and  of  the  extent  to  which  the  human  race  is  indebted  to 
those  brave  warriors  who  long  were  the  unconquered  antag- 
onists, and  finally  became  the  conquerors,  of  imperial  Rome. 
Twenty-three  eventful  years  have  passed  away  since  M.  Gui- 
zot  delivered  from  the  chair  of  modern  history  at  Paris  his 
course  of  lectures  on  the  history  of  civilization  in  Europe.  Dur- 
ing those  years  the  spirit  of  earnest  inquiry  into  the  germs  and 
primary  developments  of  existing  institutions  has  become  more 
and  more  active  and  universal,  and  the  merited  celebrity  of  M. 
Guizot's  work  has  proportionally  increased.  Its  admirable 
analysis  of  the  complex  political  and  social  organizations  of 
Avhich  the  modern  civilized  world  is  made  up,  must  have  led 
thousands  to  trace  with  keener  interest  the  great  crises  of  times 
past,  by  which  the  characteristics  of  the  present  were  deter- 
mined. The  narrative  of  one  of  these  great  crises,  of  the  epoch 
A.D.  9,  when  Germany  took  up  arms  for  her  independence 
against  Roman  invasion,  has  for  us  this  special  attraction — 
that  it  forms  part  of  our  own  national  history.  Had  Arminius 
been  supine  or  unsuccessful,  our  Germanic  ancestors  would 
have  been  enslaved  or  exterminated  in  their  original  seats  along 
the  Eyder  and  the  Elbe.  This  island  would  never  have  borne 
the  name  of  England,  and  "  we,  this  great  English  nation, 
whose  race  and  language  are  now  overrunning  the  earth,  from 

113 


Ii6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

one  end  of  it  to  the  other,"*  would  have  been  utterly  cu.''  off 
from  existence. 

Arnold  may,  indeed,  go  too  far  in  holding  that  we  are  wholly 
unconnected  in  race  with  the  Romans  and  Britons  who  inhabited 
this  country  before  the  coming  over  of  the  Saxons ;  that,  "  na- 
tionally speaking,  the  history  of  Csesar's  invasion  has  no  more 
to  do  with  us  than  the  natural  history  of  the  animals  which  then 
inhabited  our  forests."  There  seems  ample  evidence  to  prove 
that  the  Romanized  Celts  whom  our  Teutonic  forefathers  found 
here  influenced  materially  the  character  of  our  nation.  But  the 
main  stream  of  our  people  was  and  is  Germanic.  Our  language 
alone  decisively  proves  this.  Arminius  is  far  more  truly  one 
of  our  national  heroes  than  Caractacus ;  and  it  was  our  own 
primeval  fatherland  that  the  brave  German  rescued  when  he 
slaughtered  the  Roman  legions  eighteen  centuries  ago,  in  the 
marshy  glens  between  the  Lippe  and  the  Ems.f 

Dark  and  disheartening,  even  to  heroic  spirits,  must  have 
seemed  the  prospects  of  Germany  when  Arminius  planned  the 
general  rising  of  his  countrymen  against  Rome.  Half  the  land 
was  occupied  by  Roman  garrisons  ;  and,  what  was  worse,  many 
of  the  Germans  seemed  patiently  acquiescent  in  their  state  of 
bondage.  The  braver  portion,  whose  patriotism  could  be  re- 
lied on,  was  ill  armed  and  undisciplined,  while  the  enemy's 
troops  consisted  of  veterans  in  the  highest  state  of  equipment 
and  training,  familiarized  with  victory,  and  commanded  by  offi- 
cers of  proved  skill  and  valor.  The  resources  of  Rome  seemed 
boundless  ;  her  tenacity  of  purpose  was  believed  to  be  invincible. 
There  was  no  hope  of  foreign  sympathy  or  aid ;  for  "  the  self- 
governing  powers  that  had  filled  the  Old  World  had  bent  one 
after  another  before  the  rising  power  of  Rome,  and  had  van- 
ished.    The  earth  seemed  left  void  of  independent  nations. "|: 

The  German  chieftain  knew  well  the  gigantic  power  of  the 
oppressor.  Arminius  was  no  rude  savage,  fighting  out  of  mere 
animal  instinct,  or  in  ignorance  of  the  might  of  his  adversary. 
He  was  familiar  with  the  Roman  language  and  civilization ;  he 
had  served  in  the  Roman  armies ;  he  had  been  admitted  to  the 
Roman  citizenship,  and  raised  to  the  rank  of  the  equestrian 

*  Arnold's  "Lectures  on  Modern  History." 

t  See  post,  remarks  on  the  relationship  between  the  Cherusci  and  the 
English. 
t  Ranke. 


THE   VICTORY    OF   ARMINIUS  117 

order.  It  was  part  of  the  subtle  policy  of  Rome  to  confer  rank 
and  privileges  on  the  youth  of  the  leading  families  in  the  nations 
which  she  wished  to  enslave.  Among  other  young  German 
chieftains,  Arminius  and  his  brother,  who  were  the  heads  of  the 
noblest  house  in  the  tribe  of  the  Cherusci,  had  been  selected  as 
fit  objects  for  the  exercise  of  this  insidious  system.  Roman 
refinements  and  dignities  succeeded  in  denationalizing  the 
brother,  who  assumed  the  Roman  name  of  Flavius,  and  adhered 
to  Rome  throughout  all  her  wars  against  his  country.  Ar- 
minius remained  unbought  by  honors  or  wealth,  uncorrupted 
by  refinement  or  luxury.  He  aspired  to  and  obtained  from 
Roman  enmity  a  higher  title  than  ever  could  have  been  given 
him  by  Roman  favor.  It  is  in  the  page  of  Rome's  greatest  his- 
torian that  his  name  has  come  down  to  us  with  the  proud  addi- 
tion of "  Liberator  baud  dubie  Germanise."* 

Often  must  the  young  chieftain,  while  meditating  the  exploit 
which  has  thus  immortalized  him,  have  anxiously  revolved  in 
his  mind  the  fate  of  the  many  great  men  who  had  been  crushed 
in  the  attempt  which  he  was  about  to  renew — the  attempt  to 
stay  the  chariot-wheels  of  triumphant  Rome.  Could  he  hope 
to  succeed  where  Hannibal  and  Mithridates  had  perished? 
What  had  been  the  doom  of  Viriathus?  and  what  warning 
against  vain  valor  was  written  on  the  desolate  site  where  Nu- 
mantia  once  had  flourished?  Nor  was  a  caution  wanting  in 
scenes  nearer  home  and  more  recent  times.  The  Gauls  had 
fruitlessly  struggled  for  eight  years  against  Caesar ;  and  the  gal- 
lant Vercingetorix,  who  in  the  last  year  of  the  war  had  roused 
all  his  countrymen  to  insurrection,  who  had  cut  off  Roman 
detachments,  and  brought  Caesar  himself  to  the  extreme  of  peril 
at  Alesia — he,  too,  had  finally  succumbed,  had  been  led  captive 
in  Caesar's  triumph,  and  had  then  been  butchered  in  cold  blood 
in  a  Roman  dungeon. 

It  was  true  that  Rome  was  no  longer  the  great  military  re- 
public which  for  so  many  ages  had  shattered  the  kingdoms  of 
the  world.  Her  system  of  government  was  changed  ;  and  after 
a  century  of  revolution  and  civil  war,  she  had  placed  herself 
under  the  despotism  of  a  single  ruler.  But  the  discipline  of  her 
troops  was  yet  unimpaired,  and  her  warlike  spirit  seemed  un- 
abated. The  first  year  of  the  empire  had  been  signalized  by 
conquests  as  valuable  as  any  gained  by  the  republic  in  a  corre- 
*  Tacitus,  "Annals,"  ii.,  88. 


,i8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

spending  period.  It  is  a  great  fallacy,  though  apparently  sanc- 
tioned by  great  authorities,  to  suppose  that  the  foreign  policy 
pursued  by  Augustus  was  pacific ;  he  certainly  recommended 
such  a  policy  to  his  successors  {incertum  metu  an  per  invidiam, 

Tac,  Ann.,  i.,  ii),  but  he  himself,  until  Arminius  broke 

his  spirit,  had  followed  a  very  different  course.  Besides  his 
Spanish  wars,  his  generals,  in  a  series  of  generally  aggressive 
campaigns,  had  extended  the  Roman  frontier  from  the  Alps  to 
the  Danube,  and  had  reduced  into  subjection  the  large  and  im- 
portant countries  that  now  form  the  territories  of  all  Austria 
south  of  that  river,  and  of  East  Switzerland,  Lower  Wirtem- 
berg,  Bavaria,  the  Valtelline,  and  the  Tyrol.  While  the  prog- 
ress of  the  Roman  arms  thus  pressed  the  Germans  from  the 
south,  still  more  formidable  inroads  had  been  made  by  the  im- 
perial legions  on  the  west.  Roman  armies,  moving  from  the 
province  of  Gaul,  established  a  chain  of  fortresses  along  the 
right  as  well  as  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine,  and,  in  a  series  of 
victorious  campaigns,  advanced  their  eagles  as  far  as  the  Elbe, 
which  now  seemed  added  to  the  list  of  vassal  rivers,  to  the  Nile, 
the  Rhine,  the  Rhone,  the  Danube,  the  Tagus,  the  Seine,  and 
many  more,  that  acknowledged  the  supremacy  of  the  Tiber. 
Roman  fleets  also,  sailing  from  the  harbors  of  Gaul  along  the 
German  coasts  and  up  the  estuaries,  co-operated  with  the  land- 
forces  of  the  empire,  and  seemed  to  display,  even  more  deci- 
sively than  her  armies,  her  overwhelming  superiority  over  the 
rude  Germanic  tribes.  Throughout  the  territory  thus  invaded, 
the  Romans  had  with  their  usual  military  skill,  established  forti- 
fied posts;  and  a  powerful  army  of  occupation  was  kept  on  foot, 
ready  to  move  instantly  on  any  spot  where  any  popular  out- 
break might  be  attempted. 

Vast,  however,  and  admirably  organized  as  the  fabric  of 
Roman  power  appeared  on  the  frontiers  and  in  the  provinces, 
there  was  rottenness  at  the  core.  In  Rome's  unceasing  hos- 
tilities with  foreign  foes,  and  still  more  in  her  long  series  of 
desolating  civil  wars,  the  free  middle  classes  of  Italy  had  al- 
most wholly  disappeared.  Above  the  position  which  they  had 
occupied,  an  oligarchy  of  wealth  had  reared  itself ;  beneath  that 
position,  a  degraded  mass  of  poverty  and  misery  was  ferment- 
ing. Slaves,  the  chance  sweepings  of  every  conquered  country, 
shoals  of  Africans,  Sardinians,  Asiatics,  Illyrians,  and  others, 
made  up  the  bulk  of  the  population  of  the  Italian  peninsula. 


THE   VICTORY    OF   ARMINIUS  119 

The  foulest  profligacy  of  manners  was  general  in  all  ranks. 
In  universal  weariness  of  revolution  and  civil  war,  and  in  con- 
sciousness of  being  too  debased  for  self-government,  the  na- 
tion had  submitted  itself  to  the  absolute  authority  of  Augustus. 
Adulation  was  now  the  chief  function  of  the  senate ;  and  the 
gifts  of  genius  and  accomplishments  of  art  were  devoted  to 
the  elaboration  of  eloquently  false  panegyrics  upon  the  prince 
and  his  favorite  courtiers.  With  bitter  indignation  must  the 
German  chieftain  have  beheld  all  this  and  contrasted  with  it  the 
rough  worth  of  his  own  countrymen:  their  bravery,  their 
fidelity  to  their  word,  their  manly  independence  of  spirit,  their 
love  of  their  national  free  institutions,  and  their  loathing  of 
every  pollution  and  meanness.  Above  all,  he  must  have 
thought  of  the  domestic  virtues  that  hallowed  a  German  home  ; 
of  the  respect  there  shown  to  the  female  character,  and  of  the 
pure  affection  by  which  that  respect  was  repaid.  His  soul 
must  have  burned  within  him  at  the  contemplation  of  such 
a  race  yielding  to  these  debased  Italians. 

Still,  to  persuade  the  Germans  to  combine,  in  spite  of  their 
frequent  feuds  among  themselves,  in  one  sudden  outbreak 
against  Rome  ;  to  keep  the  scheme  concealed  from  the  Romans 
until  the  hour  for  action  arrived  ;  and  then,  without  possessing 
a  single  walled  town,  without  military  stores,  without  training, 
to  teach  his  insurgent  countrymen  to  defeat  veteran  armies  and 
storm  fortifications,  seemed  so  perilous  an  enterprise,  that 
probably  Arminius  would  have  receded  from  it  had  not  a 
stronger  feeling  even  than  patriotism  urged  him  on.  Among 
the  Germans  of  high  rank  who  had  most  readily  submitted  to 
the  invaders,  and  become  zealous  partisans  of  Roman  author- 
ity, was  a  chieftain  named  Segestes.  His  daughter,  Thusnelda, 
was  pre-eminent  among  the  noble  maidens  of  Germany.  Ar- 
minius had  sought  her  hand  in  marriage ;  but  Segestes,  who 
probably  discerned  the  young  chiefs  disaffection  to  Rome,  for- 
bade his  suit,  and  strove  to  preclude  all  communication  be- 
tween him  and  his  daughter.  Thusnelda,  however,  sym- 
pathized far  more  with  the  heroic  spirit  of  her  lover  than  with 
the  time-serving  policy  of  her  father.  An  elopement  baffled 
the  precautions  of  Segestes,  who,  disappointed  in  his  hope  of 
preventing  the  marriage,  accused  Arminius  before  the  Roman 
governor  of  having  carried  off  his  daughter,  and  of  planning 
treason  against  Rome.    Thus  assailed,  and  dreading  to  see  his 


120  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

bride  torn  from  him  by  the  officials  of  the  foreign  oppressor, 
Arminius  delayed  no  longer,  but  bent  all  his  energies  to  organ- 
ize and  execute  a  general  insurrection  of  the  great  mass  of  his 
countrymen,  who  hitherto  had  submitted  in  sullen  hatred  to 
the  Roman  dominion. 

A  change  of  governors  had  recently  taken  place,  which,  while 
it  materially  favored  the  ultimate  success  of  the  insurgents, 
served,  by  the  immediate  aggravation  of  the  Roman  oppres- 
sions, which  it  produced,  to  make  the  native  population  more 
universally  eager  to  take  arms.  Tiberius,  who  was  afterwards 
emperor,  had  recently  been  recalled  from  the  command  in 
Germany,  and  sent  into  Pannonia  to  put  down  a  dangerous  re- 
volt which  had  broken  out  against  the  Romans  in  that  prov- 
ince. The  German  patriots  were  thus  delivered  from  the  stern 
supervision  of  one  of  the  most  suspicious  of  mankind,  and  were 
also  relieved  from  having  to  contend  against  the  high  military 
talents  of  a  veteran  commander,  who  thoroughly  understood 
their  national  character,  and  also  the  nature  of  the  country, 
'which  he  himself  had  principally  subdued.  In  the  room  of 
Tiberius,  Augustus  sent  into  Germany  Quintilius  Varus,  who 
had  lately  returned  from  the  proconsulate  of  Syria.  Varus  was 
a  true  representative  of  the  higher  classes  of  the  Romans, 
among  whom  a  general  taste  for  literature,  a  keen  susceptibil- 
ity to  all  intellectual  gratifications,  a  minute  acquaintance  with 
the  principles  and  practice  of  their  own  national  jurisprudence, 
a  careful  training  in  the  schools  of  the  rhetoricians  and  a  fond- 
ness for  either  partaking  in  or  watching  the  intellectual  strife 
of  forensic  oratory,  had  become  generally  diffused,  without, 
however,  having  humanized  the  old  Roman  spirit  of  cruel  in- 
difference for  human  feelings  and  human  sufferings,  and  with- 
out acting  as  the  least  checks  on  unprincipled  avarice  and  ambi- 
tion, or  on  habitual  and  gross  profligacy.  Accustomed  to 
govern  th*^  depraved  and  debased  natives  of  Syria,  a  country 
where  courage  in  man  and  virtue  in  woman  had  for  centuries 
been  unknown.  Varus  thought  that  he  might  gratify  his  licen- 
tious and  rapacious  passions  with  equal  impunity  among  the 
high-minded  sons  and  pure-spirited  daughters  of  Germany. 
When  the  general  of  any  army  sets  the  example  of  out- 
rages of  this  description,  he  is  soon  faithfully  imitated  by 
his  officers,  and  surpassed  by  his  still  more  brutal  soldiery. 
The  Romans  now  habitually  indulged  in  those  violations  of  the 


THE   VICTORY    OF   ARMINIUS  I2i 

sanctity  of  the  domestic  shrine,  and  those  insults  upon  honor 
and  modesty,  by  which  far  less  gallant  spirits  than  those  of  our 
Teutonic  ancestors  have  often  been  maddened  into  insurrec- 
tion.* 

Arminius  found  among  the  other  German  chiefs  many  who 
sympathized  with  him  in  his  indignation  at  their  country's 
abasement,  and  many  whom  private  wrongs  had  stung  yet  more 
deeply.  There  was  little  difficulty  in  collecting  bold  leaders  for 
an  attack  on  the  oppressors,  and  little  fear  of  the  population  not 
rising  readily  at  those  leaders'  call.  But  to  declare  open  war 
against  Rome,  and  to  encounter  Varus'  army  in  a  pitched  battle, 
would  have  been  merely  rushing  upon  certain  destruction. 
Varus  had  three  legions  under  him,  a  force  which,  after  allow- 
ing for  detachments,  cannot  be  estimated  at  less  than  fourteen 
thousand  Roman  infantry.  He  had  also  eight  or  nine  hundred 
Roman  cavalry,  and  at  least  an  equal  number  of  horse  and  foot 
sent  from  the  allied  states,  or  raised  among  those  provincials 
who  had  not  received  the  Roman  franchise. 

It  was  not  merely  the  number,  but  the  quality  of  this  force 
that  made  them  formidable ;  and,  however  contemptible  Varus 
might  be  as  general,  Arminius  well  knew  how  admirably  the 
Roman  armies  were  organized  and  officered,  and  how  perfectly 
the  legionaries  understood  every  manoeuvre  and  every  duty 
which  the  varying  emergencies  of  a  stricken  field  might  re- 
quire. Stratagem  was,  therefore,  indispensable;  and  it  was 
necessary  to  blind  Varus  to  their  schemes  until  a  favorable 
opportunity  should  arrive  for  striking  a  decisive  blow. 

*I  cannot  forbear  quoting  Macaulay's  beautiful  lines,  where  he  de- 
scribes how  similar  outrages  in  the  early  times  of  Rome  goaded  the 
plebeians  to  rise  against  the  patricians: 

"  Heap  heavier  still  the  fetters;  bar  closer  still  the  grate; 
Patient  as  sheep  we  yield  us  up  unto  your  cruel  hate. 
But  by  the  shades  beneath  us,  and  by  "the  gods  above, 
Add  not  unto  your  cruel  hate  your  still  more  cruel  love. 

***** 
Then  leave  the  poor  plebeian  his  single  tie  to  life — 
The  sweet,  sweet  love  of  daughter,  of  sister,  and  of  wife, 
The  gentle  speech,  the  balm  for  all  that  his  vex'd  soul  endures, 
The  kiss  in  which  he  half  forgets  even  such  a  j'oke  as  yours. 
Still  let  the  maiden's  beauty  swell  the  father's  breast  with  pride; 
Still  let  the  bridegroom's  arm  enfold  an  unpolluted  bride. 
Spare  us  the  inexpiable  wrong,  the  unutterable  shame, 
That  turns  the  coward's  heart  to  steel,  the  sluggard's  blood  to  flame; 
Lest  when  our  latest  hope  is  fled  ye  taste  of  our  despair, 
And  learn  by  proof,  in  some  wild  hour,  how  much  the  wretched  dare," 


122  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

For  this  purpose,  the  German  confederates  frequented  the 
head-quarters  of  Varus,  which  seem  to  have  been  near  the  centre 
of  the  modern  country  of  WestphaHa,  where  the  Roman  gen- 
eral conducted  himself  with  all  the  arrogant  security  of  the 
governor  of  a  perfectly  submissive  province.  There  Varus 
gratified  at  once  his  vanity,  his  rhetorical  tastes,  and  his  avarice, 
by  holding  courts,  to  which  he  summoned  the  Germans  for  the 
settlement  of  all  their  disputes,  while  a  bar  of  Roman  advo- 
cates attended  to  argue  the  cases  before  the  tribunal  of  Varus, 
who  did  not  omit  the  opportunity  of  exacting  court-fees  and  ac- 
cepting bribes.  Varus  trusted  implicitly  to  the  respect  which 
the  Germans  pretended  to  pay  to  his  abilities  as  a  judge,  and  to 
the  interest  which  they  affected  to  take  in  the  forensic  eloquence 
of  their  conquerors.  Meanwhile,  a  succession  of  heavy  rains 
rendered  the  country  more  difficult  for  the  operations  of  reg- 
ular troops,  and  Arminius,  seeing  that  the  infatuation  of  Varus 
was  complete,  secretly  directed  the  tribes  near  the  Weser  and 
the  Ems  to  take  up  arms  in  open  revolt  against  the  Romans. 
This  was  represented  to  Varus  as  an  occasion  which  required 
his  prompt  attendance  at  the  spot ;  but  he  was  kept  in  studied 
ignorance  of  its  being  part  of  a  concerted  national  rising ;  and 
he  still  looked  on  Arminius  as  his  submissive  vassal,  whose  aid 
he  might  rely  on  in  facilitating  the  march  of  his  troops  against 
the  rebels,  and  in  extinguishing  the  local  disturbance.  He 
therefore  set  his  army  in  motion,  and  marched  eastward  in  a 
line  parallel  to  the  course  of  the  Lippe.  For  some  distance  his 
route  lay  along  a  level  plain ;  but  on  arriving  at  the  tract  be- 
tween the  curve  of  the  upper  part  of  that  stream  and  the  sources 
of  the  Ems,  the  country  assumes  a  very  different  character; 
and  here,  in  the  territory  of  the  modern  little  principality  of 
Lippe,  it  was  that  Arminius  had  fixed  the  scene  of  his  enterprise. 

A  woody  and  hilly  region  intervenes  between  the  heads  of 
the  two  rivers,  and  forms  the  water-shed  of  their  streams.  This 
region  still  retains  the  name  (Teutobergenwald==Teutober- 
giensis  saltus)  which  it  bore  in  the  days  of  Arminius.  The 
nature  of  the  ground  has  probably  also  remained  unaltered. 
The  eastern  part  of  it,  round  Detmold,  the  modern  capital  of 
the  principality  of  Lippe,  is  described  by  a  modern  German 
scholar,  Dr.  Plate,  as  being  a  "  table-land  intersected  by  nu- 
merous deep  and  narrow  valleys,  which  in  some  places  form 
small  plains,  surrounded  by  steep  mountains  and  rocks,  and 


THE   VICTORY   OF   ARMINIUS  123 

only  accessible  by  narrow  defiles.  All  the  valleys  are  traversed 
by  rapid  streams,  shallow  in  the  dry  season,  but  subject  to  sud- 
den swellings  in  autumn  and  winter.  The  vast  forests  which 
cover  the  summits  and  slopes  of  the  hills  consist  chiefly  of  oak ; 
there  is  little  underwood,  and  both  men  and  horse  would  move 
with  ease  in  the  forests  if  the  ground  were  not  broken  by  gul- 
leys,  or  rendered  impracticable  by  fallen  trees."  This  is  the  dis- 
trict to  which  Varus  is  supposed  to  have  marched;  and  Dr. 
Plate  adds,  that  "  the  names  of  several  localities  on  and  near 
that  spot  seem  to  indicate  that  a  great  battle  has  once  been 
fought  there.  We  find  the  names  *  das  Winnefeld  '  (the  field  of 
victory),  'die  Knochenbahn '  (the  bone-lane),  'die  Knochen- 
leke  *  (the  bone-brook), '  der  Mordkessel '  (the  kettle  of  slaugh- 
ter), and  others."* 

Contrary  to  the  usual  strict  principles  of  Roman  discipline, 
Varus  had  suffered  his  army  to  be  accompanied  and  impeded 
by  an  immense  train  of  baggage-wagons  and  by  a  rabble  of 
camp  followers,  as  if  his  troops  had  been  merely  changing  their 
quarters  in  a  friendly  country.  When  the  long  array  quitted 
the  firm,  level  ground,  and  began  to  wind  its  way  among  the 
woods,  the  marshes,  and  the  ravines,  the  difficulties  of  the 
march,  even  without  the  intervention  of  an  armed  foe,  became 
fearfully  apparent.  In  many  places,  the  soil,  sodden  with  rain, 
was  impracticable  for  cavalry,  and  even  for  infantry,  until  trees 
had  been  felled,  and  a  rude  causeway  formed  through  the 
morass. 

The  duties  of  the  engineer  were  familiar  to  all  whoi  served 
in  the  Roman  armies.  But  the  crowd  and  confusion  of  the 
columns  embarrassed  the  working  parties  of  the  soldiery,  and 
in  the  midst  of  their  toil  and  disorder  the  word  was  suddenly 
passed  through  their  ranks  that  the  rear  guard  was  attacked  by 
the  barbarians.  Varus  resolved  on  pressing  forward ;  but  a 
heavy  discharge  of  missiles  from  the  woods  on  either  flank 
taught  him  how  serious  was  the  peril,  and  he  saw  his  best  men 
falling  round  him  without  the  opportunity  of  retaliation ;  for 
his  light-armed  auxiliaries,  who  were  principally  of  Germanic 
race,  now  rapidly  deserted,  and  it  was  impossible  to  deploy  the 
legionaries  on  such  broken  ground  for  a  charge  against  the 
enemy.    Choosing  one  of  the  most  open  and  firm  spots  which 

*  I  am  indebted  for  much  valuable  information  on  this  subject  to  my 
friend,  Mr.  Henry  Pearson, 


124  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

they  could  force  their  way  to,  the  Romans  halted  for  the  night ; 
and,  faithful  to  their  national  discipline  and  tactics,  formed 
their  camp  amid  the  harassing  attacks  of  the  rapidly  thronging 
foes,  with  the  elaborate  toil  and  systematic  skill,  the  traces  of 
which  are  impressed  permanently  on  the  soil  of  so  many  Eu- 
ropean countries,  attesting  the  presence  in  the  olden  time  of  the 
imperial  eagles. 

On  the  morrow  the  Romans  renewed  their  march,  the  veteran 
officers  who  served  under  Varus  now  probably  directing  the 
operations,  and  hoping  to  find  the  Germans  drawn  up  to  meet 
them;  in  which  case  they  relied  on  their  own  superior  discipline 
and  tactics  for  such  a  victory  as  should  reassure  the  supremacy 
of  Rome.  But  Arminius  was  far  too  sage  a  commander  to  lead 
on  his  followers,  with  their  unwieldly  broad-swords  and  ineffi- 
cient defensive  armor,  against  the  Roman  legionaries,  fully 
armed  with  helmet,  cuirass,  greaves,  and  shield,  who  were 
skilled  to  commence  the  conflict  with  a  murderous  volley  of 
heavy  javelins,  hurled  upon  the  foe  when  a  few  yards  distant, 
and  then,  with  their  short  cut-and-thrust  swords,  to  hew  their 
way  through  all  opposition,  preserving  the  utmost  steadiness 
and  coolness,  and  obeying  each  word  of  command  in  the  midst 
of  strife  and  slaughter  with  the  same  precision  and  alertness  as 
if  upon  parade.*  Arminius  suffered  the  Romans  to  march  out 
from  their  camp,  to  form  first  in  line  for  action,  and  then  in 
column  for  marching,  without  the  show  of  opposition.  For 
some  distance  Varus  was  allowed  to  move  on,  only  harassed 
by  slight  skirmishes,  but  struggling  with  difficulty  through  the 
broken  ground,  the  toil  and  distress  of  his  men  being  aggra- 
vated by  heavy  torrents  of  rain,  which  burst  upon  the  devoted 
legions,  as  if  the  angry  gods  of  Germany  were  pouring  out  the 
vials  of  their  wrath  upon  the  invaders.  After  some  little  time 
their  van  approached  a  ridge  of  high  woody  ground,  which 
is  one  of  the  offshoots  of  the  great  Hircynian  forest,  and  is  sit- 
uate between  the  modern  villages  of  Driburg  and  Bielefeld. 
Arminius  had  caused  barricades  of  hewn  trees  to  be  formed 
here,  so  as  to  add  to  the  natural  difficulties  of  the  passage.  Fa- 
tigue and  discouragement  now  began  to  betray  themselves  in 
the  Roman  ranks.    Their  line  became  less  steady;   baggage- 

*  See  Gibbon's  description  (vol.  i.,  chap,  i.)  of  the  Roman  legions  in 
the  time  of  Augustus;  and  see  the  description  in  Tacitus,  "  Ann  "  lib  ii 
of  the  subsequent  battles  between  Caecina  and  Arminius 


THE   VICTORY    OF   ARMINIUS  125 

wagons  were  abandoned  from  the  impossibility  of  forcing  them 
along ;  and,  as  this  happened,  many  soldiers  left  their  ranks  and 
crowded  round  the  wagons  to  secure  the  most  valuable  por- 
tions of  their  property ;  each  was  busy  about  his  own  affairs, 
and  purposely  slow  in  hearing  the  word  of  command  from  his 
officers.  Arminius  now  gave  the  signal  for  a  general  attack. 
The  fierce  shouts  of  the  Germans  pealed  through  the  gloom 
of  the  forests,  and  in  thronging  multitudes  they  assailed  the 
flanks  of  the  invaders,  pouring  in  clouds  of  darts  on  the  encum- 
bered legionaries,  as  they  struggled  up  the  glens  or  floundered 
in  the  morasses,  and  watching  every  opportunity  of  charging 
through  the  intervals  of  the  disjointed  column,  and  so  cutting 
off  the  communication  between  its  several  brigades.  Arminius, 
with  a  chosen  band  of  personal  retainers  round  him,  cheered  on 
his  countrymen  by  voice  and  example.  He  and  his  men  aimed 
their  weapons  particularly  at  the  horses  of  the  Roman  cavalry. 
The  wounded  animals,  slipping  about  in  the  mire  and  their  own 
blood,  threw  their  riders  and  plunged  among  the  ranks  of  the 
legions,  disordering  all  round  them.  Varus  now  ordered  the 
troops  to  be  countermarched,  in  the  hope  of  reaching  the  near- 
est Roman  garrison  on  the  Lippe.*  But  retreat  now  was  as 
impracticable  as  advance ;  and  the  falling  back  of  the  Romans 
only  augmented  the  courage  of  their  assailants,  and  caused 
fiercer  and  more  frequent  charges  on  the  flanks  of  the  dis- 
heartened army.  The  Roman  officer  who  commanded  the  cav- 
alry, Numonius  Vala,  rode  off  with  his  squadrons  in  the  vain 
hope  of  escaping  by  thus  abandoning  his  comrades.  Unable 
to  keep  together,  or  force  their  way  across  the  woods  and 
swamps,  the  horsemen  were  overpowered  in  detail,  and 
slaughtered  to  the  last  man.  The  Roman  infantry  still  held 
together  and  resisted,  but  more  through  the  instinct  of  dis- 
cipline and  bravery  than  from  any  hope  of  success  or  escape. 

*  The  circumstances  of  the  early  part  of  the  battle  which  Arminius 
fought  with  Cajcina  six  years  afterwards  evidently  resembled  those  of  his 
battle  with  Varus,  and  the  result  was  very  near  being  the  same :  I  have 
therefore  adopted  part  of  the  description  which  Tacitus  gives  ("  Annal." 
lib.  i.,  c.  65)  of  the  last-mentioned  engagement:  "  Neque  tamen  Armin- 
ius quamquam  libero  incursu,  statim  prorupit:  sed  ut  h^esere  coeno  fos- 
sisque  impedimenta,  turbati  circum  milites;  incertus  signorum  ordo; 
utque  tali  in  tempore  sibi  quisquc  properus,  et  lentae  adversum  imperia 
aures,  irrumpere  Germanos  jubet,  clamitans,  '  En  Varus,  et  eodem 
itcrum  fato  victje  legiones!'  Simul  hsc,  et  cum  delectis  scindit 
agmen,  equisque  maxime  vulnera  ingerit;  illi  sanguine  sue  et  lubrico 
paludum  lapsantes,  excussis  rectoribus,  disjicere  obvios,  proterere 
jacentes." 


X36  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Varus,  after  being  severely  wounded  in  a  charge  of  the  Ger- 
mans against  his  part  of  the  column,  committed  suicide  to  avoid 
falling  into  the  hands  of  those  whom  he  had  exasperated  by 
his  oppressions.  One  of  the  lieutenant  generals  of  the  army  fell 
fighting;  the  other  surrendered  to  the  enemy.  But  mercy  to 
a  fallen  foe  had  never  been  a  Roman  virtue,  and  those  among 
her  legions  who  now  laid  down  their  arms  in  hope  of  quarter, 
drank  deep  of  the  cup  of  suffering,  which  Rome  had  held  to 
the  lips  of  many  a  brave  but  unfortunate  enemy.  The  infuri- 
ated Germans  slaughtered  their  oppressors  with  deliberate 
ferocity,  and  those  prisoners  who  were  not  hewn  to  pieces  on 
the  spot  were  only  preserved  to  perish  by  a  more  cruel  death  in 
cold  blood. 

The  bulk  of  the  Roman  army  fought  steadily  and  stubbornly, 
frequently  repelling  the  masses  of  the  assailants,  but  gradually 
losing  the  compactness  of  their  array,  and  becoming  weaker 
and  weaker  beneath  the  incessant  shower  of  darts  and  the  re- 
iterated assaults  of  the  vigorous  and  unencumbered  Germans. 
At  last,  in  a  series  of  desperate  attacks,  the  column  was  pierced 
through  and  through,  two  of  the  eagles  captured,  and  the  Ro- 
man host,  which  on  the  yester  morning  had  marched  forth  in 
such  pride  and  might,  now  broken  up  into  confused  fragments, 
either  fell  fighting  beneath  the  overpowering  numbers  of  the 
enemy,  or  perished  in  the  swamps  and  woods  in  unavailing 
efforts  at  flight.  Few,  very  few,  ever  saw  again  the  left  bank  of 
the  Rhine.  One  body  of  brave  veterans,  arraying  themselves 
in  a  ring  on  a  little  mound,  beat  ofif  every  charge  of  the  Ger- 
mans, and  prolonged  their  honorable  resistance  to  the  close  of 
that  dreadful  day.  The  traces  of  a  feeble  attempt  at  forming 
'  a  ditch  and  mound  attested  in  after  years  the  spot  where  the  last 
of  the  Romans  passed  their  night  of  sufifering  and  despair. 
But  on  the  morrow,  this  remnant  also,  worn  out  with  hunger, 
wounds,  and  toil,  was  charged  by  the  victorious  Germans,  and 
either  massacred  on  the  spot,  or  offered  up  in  fearful  rites  at 
the  altars  of  the  deities  of  the  old  mythology  of  the  North. 

A  gorge  in  the  mountain  ridge,  through  which  runs  the 
modern  road  between  Paderborn  and  Pyrmont,  leads  from  the 
spot  where  the  heat  of  the  battle  raged  to  the  Extersteine,  a 
cluster  of  bold  and  grotesque  rocks  of  sandstone,  near  which 
is  a  small  sheet  of  water,  overshadowed  by  a  grove  of  aged  trees. 
According  to  local  tradition,  this  was  one  of  the  sacred  groves 


THE  VICTORY   OF   ARMINIUS  127 

of  the  ancient  Germans,  and  it  was  here  that  the  Roman  cap- 
tives were  slain  in  sacrifice  by  the  victorious  warriors  of  Ar- 
minius.* 

Never  was  victory  more  decisive,  never  was  the  liberation 
of  an  oppressed  people  more  instantaneous  and  complete. 
Throughout  Germany  the  Roman  garrisons  were  assailed  and 
cut  off ;  and  within  a  few  weeks  after  Varus  had  fallen,  the  Ger- 
man soil  was  freed  from  the  foot  of  an  invader. 

At  Rome  the  tidings  of  the  battle  were  received  with  an  agony 
of  terror,  the  reports  of  which  we  should  deem  exaggerated, 
did  they  not  come  from  Roman  historians  themselves.  They 
not  only  tell  emphatically  how  great  was  the  awe  which  the  Ro- 
mans felt  of  the  prowess  of  the  Germans,  if  their  various  tribes 
could  be  brought  to  unite  for  a  common  purpose,!  but  also 
they  reveal  how  weakened  and  debased  the  population  of  Italy 
had  become.  Dion  Cassius  says  (lib.  Ivi.,  sec.  23) :  "  Then  Au- 
gustus, when  he  heard  the  calamity  of  Varus,  rent  his  garment, 
and  was  in  great  affliction  for  the  troops  he  had  lost,  and  for 
terror  respecting  the  Germans  and  the  Gauls.  And  his  chief 
alarm  was  that  he  expected  them  to  push  on  against  Italy  and 
Rome ;  and  there  remained  no  Roman  youth  fit  for  military 
duty  that  were  worth  speaking  of,  and  the  allied  populations, 
that  were  at  all  serviceable,  had  been  wasted  away.  Yet  he 
prepared  for  the  emergency  as  well  as  his  means  allowed ;  and 
when  none  of  the  citizens  of  military  age  were  willing  to  en- 
list, he  made  them  cast  lots,  and  punished  by  confiscation  of 
goods  and  disfranchisement  every  fifth  man  among  those  un- 
der thirty-five,  and  every  tenth  man  of  those  above  that  age. 
At  last,  when  he  found  that  not  even  thus  could  he  make  many 
come  forward,  he  put  some  of  them  to  death.  So  he  made  a 
conscription  of  discharged  veterans  and  of  emancipated  slaves, 
and,  collecting  as  large  a  force  as  he  could,  sent  it,  under  Ti- 
berius, with  all  speed  into  Germany." 

*  "  Lucis  propinquis  barbarse  aras,  apud  quas  tribunes  ac  primorum 
ordinum  centuriones  mactaverant." — Tacitus,  Ann.,  lib.  i.,  c.  61. 

t  It  is  clear  that  the  Romans  followed  the  policy  of  fomenting  dissen- 
sions and  wars  of  the  Germans  among  themselves.  See  the  thirty-third 
section  of  the  "  Germania  "  of  Tacitus,  where  he  mentions  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Bructeri  by  the  neighboring  tribes:  "  Favore  quodam  erga 
nos  deorum:  nam  ne  spectaculo  quidem  prcelii  invidere:  super  Ix.  milHa 
non  armis  telisque  Romanis,  sed,  quod  magnificentius  est,  oblectationi 
oculisque  ceciderunt.  Maneat  quaeso,  duretque  gentibus,  si  non  amor 
nostri,  at  certe  odium  sui:  quando  urgentibus  imperii  fatis,  nihil  jam 
praestare  fortuna  majus  potest  quam  hostium  discordiam." 


128  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Dion  mentions,  also,  a  number  of  terrific  portents  that  were 
believed  to  have  occurred  at  the  time,  and  the  narration  of 
which  is  not  immaterial,  as  it  shows  the  state  of  the  public  mind, 
when  such  things  were  so  believed  in  and  so  interpreted.  The 
summits  of  the  Alps  were  said  to  have  fallen,  and  three  columns 
of  fire  to  have  blazed  up  from  them.  In  the  Campus  Martius, 
the  temple  of  the  war-god,  from  whom  the  founder  of  Rome  had 
sprung,  was  struck  by  a  thunderbolt.  The  nightly  heavens 
glowed  several  times,  as  if  on  fire.  Many  comets  blazed  forth 
together ;  and  fiery  meteors,  shaped  like  spears,  had  shot  from 
the  northern  quarter  of  the  sky  down  into  the  Roman  camps. 
It  was  said,  too,  that  a  statue  of  Victory,  which  had  stood  at 
a  place  on  the  frontier,  pointing  the  way  towards  Germany,  had, 
of  its  own  accord,  turned  round,  and  now  pointed  to  Italy. 
These  and  other  prodigies  were  believed  by  the  multitude  to  ac- 
company the  slaughter  of  Varus'  legions,  and  to  manifest  the 
anger  of  the  gods  against  Rome.  Augustus  himself  was  not 
free  from  superstition;  but  on  this  occasion  no  supernatural 
terrors  were  needed  to  increase  the  alarm  and  grief  that  he  felt, 
and  which  made  him,  even  months  after  the  news  of  the  battle 
had  arrived,  often  beat  his  head  against  the  wall,  and  exclaim, 
"  Quintilius  Varus,  give  me  back  my  legions."  We  learn  this 
from  his  biographer  Suetonius;  and,  indeed,  every  ancient 
writer  who  alludes  to  the  overthrow  of  Varus  attests  the  im- 
portance of  the  blow  against  the  Roman  power,  and  the  bitter- 
ness with  which  it  was  felt.* 

The  Germans  did  not  pursue  their  victory  beyond  their  own 
territory ;  but  that  victory  secured  at  once  and  forever  the  in- 
dependence of  the  Teutonic  race.  Rome  sent,  indeed,  her 
legions  again  into  Germany,  to  parade  a  temporary  superiority, 
but  all  hopes  of  permanent  conquests  were  abandoned  by  Au- 
gustus and  his  successors. 

The  blow  which  Arminius  had  struck  never  was  forgotten. 
Roman  fear  disguised  itself  under  the  specious  title  of  modera- 
tion, and  the  Rhine  became  the  acknowledged  boundary  of  the 
two  nations  until  the  fifth  century  of  our  era,  when  the  Ger- 
mans became  the  assailants,  and  carved  with  their  conquer- 
mg  swords  the  provinces  of  imperial  Rome  into  the  kingdoms 
of  modern  Europe. 

*  Florus  expresses  its  effect  most  pithily:  "  Hac  clade  factum  est  ut 
impenum  quod  m  litore  oceani  non  steterat,  in  ripa  Rheni  fluminis 
staret,"  iv.,  12. 


THE    VICTORY    OF    ARMINIUS  129 

ARMINIUS. 

I  have  said  above  that  the  great  Cheruscan  is  more  truly 
one  of  our  national  heroes  than  Caractacus  is.  It  may  be 
added  that  an  Englishman  is  entitled  to  claim  a  closer  degree  of 
relationship  with  Arminius  than  can  be  claimed  by  any  German 
of  modern  Germany.  The  proof  of  this  depends  on  the  proof 
of  four  facts :  first,  that  the  Cheruscans  were  Old  Saxons,  or 
Saxons  of  the  interior  of  Germany ;  secondly,  that  the  Anglo- 
Saxons,  or  Saxons  of  the  coast  of  Germany,  were  more  closely 
akin  than  other  German  tribes  were  to  the  Cheruscan  Saxons ; 
thirdly,  that  the  Old  Saxons  were  almost  exterminated  by 
Charlemagne ;  fourthly,  that  the  Anglo-Saxons  are  our  imme- 
diate ancestors.  The  last  of  these  may  be  assumed  as  an  axiom 
in  English  history.  The  proofs  of  the  other  three  are  partly 
philological  and  partly  historical.  I  have  not  space  to  go  into 
them  here,  but  they  will  be  found  in  the  early  chapters  of  the 
great  work  of  my  friend.  Dr.  Robert  Gordon  Latham,  on 
the  "  English  Language,"  and  in  the  notes  to  his  edition  of 
the  "  Germania  of  Tacitus."  It  may  be,  however,  here  re- 
marked, that  the  present  Saxons  of  Germany  are  of  the  High 
Germanic  division  of  the  German  race,  whereas  both  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  and  Old  Saxon  were  of  the  Low  Germanic. 

Being  thus  the  nearest  heirs  of  the  glory  of  Arminius,  we 
may  fairly  devote  more  attention  to  his  career  than,  in  such  a 
work  as  the  present,  could  be  allowed  to  any  individual  leader ; 
and  it  is  interesting  to  trace  how  far  his  fame  survived  during 
the  Middle  Ages,  both  among  the  Germans  of  the  Continent 
and  among  ourselves. 

It  seems  probable  that  the  jealousy  with  which  Maroboduus, 
the  king  of  the  Suevi  and  Marcomanni,  regarded  Arminius, 
and  which  ultimately  broke  out  into  open  hostilities  between 
those  German  tribes  and  the  Dherusci,  prevented  Arminius 
from  leading  the  confederate  Germans  to  attack  Italy  after  his 
first  victory.  Perhaps  he  may  have  had  the  rare  moderation  of 
being  content  with  the  liberation  of  his  country,  without  seeking 
to  retaliate  on  her  former  oppressors.  When  Tiberius  marched 
into  Germany  in  the  year  10,  Arminius  was  too  cautious  to  at- 
tack him  on  ground  favorable  to  the  legions,  and  Tiberius  was 
too  skilful  to  entangle  his  troops  in  the  difficult  parts  of  the 
country.  His  march  and  countermarch  were  as  unresisted  as 
9 


I30  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

they  were  unproductive.  A  few  years  later,  when  a  dangerous 
revolt  of  the  Roman  legions  near  the  frontier  caused  their  gen- 
erals to  find  them  active  employment  by  leading  them  into  the 
interior  of  Germany,  we  find  Arminius  again  active  in  his  coun- 
try's defence.  The  old  quarrel  between  him  and  his  father-in- 
law,  Segestes,  had  broken  out  afresh.  Segestes  now  called  in 
the  aid  of  the  Roman  general,  Germanicus,  to  whom  he  sur- 
rendered himself;  and  by  his  contrivance,  his  daughter  Thus- 
nelda,  the  wife  of  Arminius,  also  came  into  the  hands  of  the 
Romans,  being  far  advanced  in  pregnancy.  She  showed,  as 
Tacitus  relates,*  more  of  the  spirit  of  her  husband  than  of  her 
father,  a  spirit  that  could  not  be  subdued  into  tears  or  supplica- 
tions. She  was  sent  to  Ravenna,  and  there  gave  birth  to  a  son, 
whose  life  we  know,  from  an  allusion  in  Tacitus,  to  have  been 
eventful  and  unhappy ;  but  the  part  of  the  great  historian's 
work  which  narrated  his  fate  has  perished,  and  we  only  know 
from  another  quarter  that  the  son  of  Arminius  was,  at  the  age 
of  four  years,  led  captive  in  a  triumphal  pageant  along  the 
streets  of  Rome. 

The  high  spirit  of  Arminius  was  goaded  almost  into  frenzy 
by  these  bereavements.  The  fate  of  his  wife,  thus  torn  from 
him,  and  of  his  babe  doomed  to  bondage  even  before  its  birth, 
inflamed  the  elequent  invectives  with  which  he  roused  his  coun- 
trymen against  the  home-traitors,  and  against  their  invaders, 
who  thus  made  war  upon  women  and  children.  Germanicus 
had  marched  his  army  to  the  place  where  Varus  had  perished, 
and  had  there  paid  funeral  honors  to  the  ghastly  relics  of  his 
predecessor's  legions  that  he  found  heaped  around  him.f  Ar- 
minius lured  him  to  advance  a  little  further  into  the  country, 
and  then  assailed  him,  and  fought  a  battle,  which,  by  the  Roman 
accounts,  was  a  drawn  one.  The  effect  of  it  was  to  make  Ger- 
manicus resolve  on  retreating  to  the  Rhine.  He  himself,  with 
part  of  his  troops,  embarked  in  some  vessels  on  the  Ems,  and 
returned  by  that  river,  and  then  by  sea ;  but  part  of  his  forces 
were  intrusted  to  a  Roman  general  named  Csecina,  to  lead  them 
back  by  land  to  the  Rhine.  Arminius  followed  this  division  on 
its  march,  and  fought  several  battles  with  it,  in  which  he  in- 

*  "  Ann.,"  i.,  57. 

t  In  the  Museum  of  Rhenish  Antiquities  at  Bonn  there  is  a  Roman 
sepulchral  monument,  the  inscription  on  which  records  that  it  was  erected 
to  the  memory  of  M.  Coelius,  who  fell  "  Bella  Variano." 


THE   VICTORY    OF    ARMINIUS 


131 


flicted  heavy  loss  on  the  Romans,  captured  the  greater  part  of 
their  baggage,  and  would  have  destroyed  them  completely,  had 
not  his  skilful  system  of  operations  been  finally  thwarted  by 
the  haste  of  Inguiomerus,  a  confederate  German  chief,  whb 
insisted  on  assaulting  the  Romans  in  their  camp,  instead  of 
waiting  till  they  were  entangled  in  the  difficulties  of  the  coun- 
try, and  assailing  their  columns  on  the  march. 

In  the  following  year  the  Romans  were  inactive,  but  in  the 
year  afterwards  Germanicus  led  a  fresh  invasion.  He  placed  his 
army  on  shipboard,  and  sailed  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ems,  where 
he  disembarked,  and  marched  to  the  Weser,  where  he  en- 
camped, probably  in  the  neighborhood  of  Minden.  Arminius 
had  collected  his  army  on  the  other  side  of  the  river ;  and  a 
scene  occurred,  which  is  powerfully  told  by  Tacitus,  and  which 
is  the  subject  of  a  beautiful  poem  by  Praed.  It  has  been  already 
mentioned  that  the  brother  of  Arminius,  like  himself,  had  been 
trained  up  while  young  to  serve  in  the  Roman  armies ;  but, 
unlike  Arminius,  he  not  only  refused  to  quit  the  Roman  service 
for  that  of  his  country,  but  fought  against  his  country  with 
the  legions  of  Germanicus.  He  had  assumed  the  Roman  name 
of  Flavins,  and  had  gained  considerable  distinction  in  the 
Roman  service,  in  which  he  had  lost  an  eye  from  a  wound  in 
battle.  When  the  Roman  outposts  approached  the  River 
Weser,  Arminius  called  out  to  them  from  the  opposite  bank, 
and  expressed  a  wish  to  see  his  brother.  Flavins  stepped  for- 
ward, and  Arminius  ordered  his  own  followers  to  retire,  and  re- 
quested that  the  archers  should  be  removed  from  the  Roman 
bank  of  the  river.  This  was  done ;  and  the  brothers,  who  ap- 
parently had  not  seen  each  other  for  some  years,  began  a  con- 
versation from  the  opposite  sides  of  the  stream,  in  which 
Arminius  questioned  his  brother  respecting  the  loss  of  his  eye, 
and  what  battle  it  had  been  lost  in,  and  what  reward  he  had 
received  for  his  wound.  Flavins  told  him  how  the  eye  was  lost, 
and  mentioned  the  increased  pay  that  he  had  on  account  of  its 
loss,  and  showed  the  collar  and  other  military  decorations  that 
had  been  given  him.  Arminius  mocked  at  these  as  badges  of 
slavery ;  and  then  each  began  to  try  to  win  the  other  over. 
Flavius  boasting  the  power  of  Rome,  and  her  generosity  to  the 
submissive ;  Arminius  appealing  to  him  in  the  name  of  their 
country's  gods,  of  the  mother  that  had  borne  them  and  by  the 
holy  names  of  fatherland  and  freedom,  not  to  prefer  being  the 


132  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

betrayer  to  being  the  champion  of  his  country.  They  soon 
proceeded  to  mutual  taunts  and  menaces,  and  Flavius  called 
aloud  for  his  horse  and  his  arms,  that  he  might  dash  across  the 
river  and  attack  his  brother ;  nor  would  he  have  been  checked 
from  doing  so,  had  not  the  Roman  general  Stertinius  run  up  to 
him  and  forcibly  detained  him.  Arminius  stood  on  the  other 
bank,  threatening  the  renegade,  and  defying  him  to  battle. 

I  shall  not  be  thought  to  need  apology  for  quoting  here  the 
stanzas  in  which  Praed  has  described  this  scene — a  scene 
among  the  most  affecting,  as  well  as  the  most  striking,  that  his- 
tory supplies.  It  makes  us  reflect  on  the  desolate  position  of 
Arminius,  with  his  wife  and  child  captives  in  the  enemy's  hands, 
and  with  his  brother  a  renegade  in  arms  against  him.  The  great 
liberator  of  our  German  race  was  there,  with  every  source  of 
human  happiness  denied  him  except  the  consciousness  of  doing 
his  duty  to  his  country. 

"  Back,  back!  he  fears  not  foaming  flood 

Who  fears  not  steel-clad  line : 
No  warrior  thou  of  German  blood, 

No  brother  thou  of  mine. 
Go,  earn  Rome's  chain  to  load  thy  neck, 

Her  gems  to  deck  thy  hilt ; 
And  blazon  honor's  hapless  wreck 

With  all  the  gauds  of  guilt. 

"  But  wouldst  thou  have  me  share  the  prey  ? 

By  all  that  I  have  done, 
The  Varian  bones  that  day  by  day 

Lie  whitening  in  the  sun, 
The  legion's  trampled  panoply, 

The  eagle's  shatter'd  wing — 
I  would  not  be  for  earth  or  sky 

So  scorn'd  and  mean  a  thing. 

"  Ho,  call  me  here  the  wizard,  boy, 

Of  dark  and  subtle  skill, 
To  agonize  but  not  destroy, 

To  torture,  not  to  kill. 
When  swords  are  out,  and  shriek  and  shout 

Leave  little  room  for  prayer. 
No  fetter  on  man's  arm  or  heart 

Hangs  half  so  heavy  there. 

"  I  curse  him  by  the  gifts  the  land 
Hath  won  from  him  and  Rome, 
The  riving  axe,  the  wasting  brand, 
Rent  forest,  blazing  home. 


THE   VICTORY    OF   ARMINIUS  133 

I  curse  him  by  our  country's  gods, 

The  terrible,  the  dark, 
The  breakers  of  the  Roman  rods, 

The  smiters  of  the  bark. 

"  Oh,  misery  that  such  a  ban 

On  such  a  brow  should  be ! 
Why  comes  he  not  in  battle's  van 

His  country's  chief  to  be? 
To  stand  a  comrade  by  my  side, 

The  sharer  of  my  fame, 
And  worthy  of  a  brother's  pride 

And  of  a  brother's  name? 

"  But  it  is  past !  where  heroes  press 

And  cowards  bend  the  knee, 
Arminius  is  not  brotherless, 

His  brethren  are  the  free. 
They  come  around:  one  hour,  and  light 

Will  fade  from  turf  and  tide, 
Then  onward,  onward  to  the  fight, 

With  darkness  for  our  guide. 

"  To-night,  to-night,  when  we  shall  meet 

In  combat  face  to  face, 
Then  only  would  Arminius  greet 

The  renegade's  embrace. 
The  canker  of  Rome's  guilt  shall  be 

Upon  his  dying  name ; 
And  as  he  lived  in  slavery. 

So  shall  he  fall  in  shame." 

On  the  day  after  the  Romans  had  reached  the  Weser,  Ger- 
maniciis  led  his  army  across  that  river,  and  a  partial  encounter 
took  place,  in  which  Arminius  was  successful.  But  on  the  suc- 
ceeding day  a  general  action  was  fought,  in  which  Arminius 
was  severely  wounded,  and  the  German  infantry  routed  with 
heavy  loss.  The  horsemen  of  the  two  armies  encountered, 
without  either  party  gaining  the  advantage.  But  the  Roman 
army  remained  master  of  the  ground,  and  claimed  a  complete 
victory.  Germanicus  erected  a  trophy  in  the  field,  with  a 
vaunting  inscription,  that  the  nations  between  the  Rhine  and 
the  Elbe  had  been  thoroughly  conquered  by  his  army.  But 
that  army  speedily  made  a  final  retreat  to  the  left  bank  of  the 
Rhine  ;  nor  was  the  effect  of  their  campaign  more  durable  than 
their  trophy.  The  sarcasm  with  which  Tacitus  speaks  of  cer- 
tain other  triumphs  of  Roman  generals  over  Germans  may 


134  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

apply  to  the  pageant  which  Germanicus  celebrated  on  his  re- 
turn to  Rome  from  his  command  of  the  Roman  army  of  the 
Rhine.    The  Germans  were  "  triumphati  potius  quam  victi." 

After  the  Romans  had  abandoned  their  attempts  on  Ger- 
many, we  find  Arminius  engaged  in  hostilities  with  Maro- 
boduus,  the  king  of  the  Suevi  and  Marcomanni,  who  was 
endeavoring  to  bring  the  other  German  tribes  into  a  state  of 
dependency  on  him.  Arminius  was  at  the  head  of  the  Germans 
who  took  up  arms  against  this  home  invader  of  their  liberties. 
After  some  minor  engagements,  a  pitched  battle  was  fought 
between  the  two  confederacies,  a.d.  19,  in  which  the  loss  on 
each  side  was  equal,  but  Maroboduus  confessed  the  ascendency 
of  his  antagonist  by  avoiding  a  renewal  of  the  engagement, 
and  by  imploring  the  intervention  of  the  Romans  in  his  defence. 
The  younger  Drusus  then  commanded  the  Roman  legions  in 
the  province  of  Illyricum,  and  by  his  mediation  a  peace  was  con- 
cluded between  Arminius  and  Maroboduus,  by  the  terms  of 
which  it  is  evident  that  the  latter  must  have  renounced  his  am- 
bitious schemes  against  the  freedom  of  the  other  German  tribes. 

Arminius  did  not  long  survive  this  second  war  of  inde- 
pendence, which  he  successfully  waged  for  his  country.  He 
was  assassinated  in  the  thirty-seventh  year  of  his  age  by  some 
of  his  own  kinsmen,  who  conspired  against  him.  Tacitus  says 
that  this  happened  while  he  was  engaged  in  a  civil  war,  which 
had  been  caused  by  his  attempts  to  make  himself  king  over  his 
countrymen.  It  is  far  more  probable  (as  one  of  the  best  biog- 
raphers* has  observed)  that  Tacitus  misunderstood  an  attempt 
of  Arminius  to  extend  his  influence  as  elective  war-chieftain  of 
the  Cherusci,  and  other  tribes,  for  an  attempt  to  obtain  the 
royal  dignity.  When  we  remember  that  his  father-in-law  and 
his  brother  were  renegades,  we  can  well  understand  that  a 
party  among  his  kinsmen  may  have  been  bitterly  hostile  to  him, 
and  have  opposed  his  authority  with  the  tribe  by  open  vio- 
lence, and  when  that  seemed  ineffectual,  by  secret  assassina- 
tion. 

Arminius  left  a  name  which  the  historians  of  the  nation 
against  which  he  combated  so  long  and  so  gloriously  have  de- 
lighted to  honor.    It  is  from  the  most  indisputable  source,  from 

*  Dr.  Plate,  in  "  Biographical  Dictionary,"  commenced  by  the  Society 
for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge. 


THE    VICTORY    OF    ARMINIUS  135 

the  lips  of  enemies,  that  we  know  his  exploits.*  His  country- 
men made  history,  but  did  not  write  it.  But  his  memory  lived 
among  them  in  the  days  of  their  bards,  who  recorded 

"  The  deeds  he  did,  the  fields  he  won, 
The  freedom  he  restored." 

Tacitus,  writing  years  after  the  death  of  Arminius,  says  of 
him,  "  Canitur  adhuc  barbaras  apud  gentes."  As  time  passed 
on,  the  gratitude  of  ancient  Germany  to  her  great  deliverer 
grew  into  adoration,  and  divine  honors  were  paid  for  centuries 
to  Arminius  by  every  tribe  of  the  Low  Germanic  division  of 
the  Teutonic  races.  The  Irmin-sul,  or  the  column  of  Herman, 
near  Eresburgh,  the  modern  Stadtberg,  was  the  chosen  object 
of  worship  to  the  descendants  of  the  Cherusci,  the  Old  Saxons, 
and  in  defence  of  which  they  fought  most  desperately  against 
Charlemagne  and  his  Christianized  Franks.  "  Irmin,  in  the 
cloudy  Olympus  of  Teutonic  belief,  appears  as  a  king  and  a 
warrior ;  and  the  pillar,  the  '  Irmin-sul,'  bearing  the  statute, 
and  considered  as  the  symbol  of  the  deity,  was  the  Palladium 
of  the  Saxon  nation  until  the  temple  of  Eresburgh  was  de- 
stroyed by  Charlemagne,  and  the  column  itself  transferred  to 
the  monastery  of  Corbey,  where  perhaps  a  portion  of  the  rude 
rock  idol  yet  remains,  covered  by  the  ornaments  of  the  Gothic 
era."f  Traces  of  the  worship  of  Arminius  are  to  be  found 
among  our  Anglo-Saxon  ancestors,  after  their  settlement  in 
this  island.  One  of  the  four  great  highways  was  held  to  be 
under  the  protection  of  the  deity,  and  was  called  the  "  Irmin 
street."  The  name  Arminius  is,  of  course,  the  mere  Latinized 
form  of  "  Herman,"  the  name  by  which  the  hero  and  the  deity 
were  known  by  every  man  of  Low  German  blood  on  either 
side  of  the  German  Sea.  It  means,  etymologically,  the  "  War- 
man,"  the  "  man  of  hosts."  No  other  explanation  of  the  wor- 
ship of  the  "  Irmin-sul,"  and  of  the  name  of  the  "  Irmin  street," 
is  so  satisfactory  as  that  which  connects  them  with  the  deified 
Arminius.  We  know  for  certain  of  the  existence  of  other  col- 
umns of  an  analogous  character.  Thus  there  was  the  Roland- 
seule  in  North  Germany ;  there  was  a  Thor-seule  in  Sweden, 

*  See  Tacitus,  "  Ann.,"  lib.  ii.,  sec.  88;  Velleius  Paterculus,  lib.  ii.,  sec. 
118. 
t  Palgrave  on  the  "  English  Commonwealth,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  140. 


136  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

and  (what  is  more  important)  there  was  an  Athelstan-seule  in 
Saxon  England.* 

There  is  at  the  present  moment  a  song  respecting  the  Irmin- 
stil  current  in  the  bishopric  of  Minden,  one  version  of  which 
might  seem  only  to  refer  to  Charlemagne  having  pulled  down 
the  Irmin-sul. 

"  Herman,  sla  dermen, 

Sla  pipen,  sla  trummen, 

De  Kaiser  will  kummen, 

Met  hamer  un  stangen, 

Will  Herman  uphangen." 

But  there  is  another  version,  which  probably  is  the  oldest,  and 
which  clearly  refers  to  the  great  Arminius. 

"  Un  Herman  slaug  dermen, 
Slang  pipen,  slaug  trummen ; 
De  fiirsten  sind  kammen, 
Met  all  eren-mannen 
Hebt  Varus  uphangen."  t 

About  ten  centuries  and  a  half  after  the  demolition  of  the 
Irmin-sul,  and  nearly  eighteen  after  the  death  of  Arminius, 
the  modern  Germans  conceived  the  idea  of  rendering  tardy 
homage  to  their  great  hero,  and  accordingly,  some  eight  or  ten 
years  ago,  a  general  subscription  was  organized  in  Germany 
for  the  purpose  of  erecting  on  the  Osning — a  conical  mountain, 
which  forms  the  highest  summit  of  the  Teutoberger  Wald,  and 
is  eighteen  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea — a  colossal 
bronze  statue  of  Arminius.  The  statue  was  designed  by  Ban- 
del.  The  hero  was  to  stand  uplifting  a  sword  in  his  right  hand, 
and  looking  towards  the  Rhine.  The  height  of  the  statue  was 
to  be  eighty  feet  from  the  base  to  the  point  of  the  sword,  and 
was  to  stand  on  a  circular  Gothic  temple  ninety  feet  high,  and 
supported  by  oak  trees  as  columns.  The  mountain,  where  it 
was  to  be  erected,  is  wild  and  stern,  and  overlooks  the  scene  of 
the  battle.  It  was  calculated  that  the  statue  would  be  clearly 
visible  at  a  distance  of  sixty  miles.  The  temple  is  nearly  fin- 
ished, and  the  statue  itself  has  been  cast  at  the  copper  works 
at  Lemgo.     But  there,  through  want  of  funds  to  set  it  up,  it 

*  See  Lappenburg's  "  Anglo-Saxons,"  p.  ::^76.  For  nearly  all  the  philo- 
logical and  ethnographical  facts  respecting  Arminius,  I  am  indebted  to 
my  friend,  Dr.  R.  G.  Latham. 

t  Sec  Grim,  "  Deutsche  Mythologie,"  329. 


THE   VICTORY    OF    ARMINIUS  137 

has  lain  for  some  years,  in  disjointed  fragments,  exposed  to  the 
mutilating  homage  of  relic-seeking  travellers.  The  idea  of 
honoring  a  hero,  who  belongs  to  all  Germany,  is  not  one  which 
the  present  rulers  of  that  divided  country*  have  any  wish  to  en- 
courage; and  the  statue  may  long  continue  to  lie  there,  and 
present  too  true  a  type  of  the  condition  of  Germany  herself,  f 

Surely  this  is  an  occasion  in  which  Englishmen  might  well 
prove,  by  acts  as  well  as  words,  that  we  also  rank  Arminius 
among  our  heroes. 

I  have  quoted  the  noble  stanzas  of  one  of  our  modern  Eng- 
lish poets  on  Arminius,  and  I  will  conclude  this  memoir  with 
one  of  the  odes  of  the  great  poet  of  modern  Germany,  Klop- 
stock,  on  the  victory  to  which  we  owe  our  freedom,  and  Armin- 
ius mainly  owes  his  fame.  Klopstock  calls  it  the  "  Battle  of 
Winfield."  The  epithet  of  "  sister  of  Cannae  "  shows  that  Klop- 
stock followed  some  chronologers,  according  to  whom  Varus 
was  defeated  on  the  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which  Paulus 
and  Varro  were  defeated  by  Hannibal. 

SONG  OF  TRIUMPH  AFTER  THE  VICTORY  OF  HERRMAN, 
THE  DELIVERER  OF  GERMANY  FROM  THE  ROMANS. 

FROM    KLOPSTOCK's    "  HERRMAN    UND    DIE   FURSTEN." 

Supposed  to  be  sung  by  a  chorus  of  Bards. 

A  CHORUS. 

Sister  of  Cannae!  t    Winfield's  §  fight! 
We  saw  thee  with  thy  streaming,  bloody  hair, 
With  fiery  eye,  bright  with  the  world's  despair, 
Sweep  by  Walhalla's  bards  from  out  our  sight. 

Herrman  outspake :    "  Now  Victory  or  Death  !  " 
The  Romans    ..."  Victory  !  " 
And  onward  rushed  their  eagles  with  the  cry. 
So  ended  the  iirst  day. 

"  Victory  or  Death!  "   began 

Then,  first,  the  Roman  chief;    and  Herrman  spake 
Not,  but  home-struck :  the  eagles  fluttered — brake. 
So  sped  the  second  day. 

*  Written  in  1851  when  Germany  was  divided  into  numerous  inde- 
pendent principalities. 

t  On  the  subject  of  this  statue.  I  must  repeat  an  acknowledgment  of 
my  obligations  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Henry  Pearson. 

t  The  battle  of  Cannae,  B.C.  216 — Hannibal's  victory  over  the  Romans. 

§  Winfield — the  probable  site  of  the  "  Hcrrmanschladt" ;  see  supra. 


138  DECISIVE    BATTLES 


TWO   CHORUSES. 


And  the  third  came  .    .    .  the  cry  was  "  Flight  or  Death  !  * 
Flight  left  they  not  for  them  who'd  make  them  slaves — 
Men  who  stab  children  !  flight  for  them  !   .    .    .  no  !  graves ! 
"  'Twas  their  last  day." 

TWO  BARDS. 

Yet  spared  they  messengers  :  they  came  to  Rome — 
How  drooped  the  plume — the  lance  was  left  to  trail 
Down  in  the  dust  behind — their  cheek  was  pale — 
So  came  the  messengers  to  Rome. 

High  in  his  hall  the  imperator  sat — 

Octavianus  Cccsar  Augustus  sat. 

They  filled  up  wine-cups,  wine-cups  filled  they  up 

For  him  the  highest — wine-cups  filled  they  up 

For  him  the  highest,  Jove  of  all  their  state. 

The  flutes  of  Lydia  hushed  before  their  voice, 
Before  the  messengers — the  "  Highest  "  sprung — 
The  god  *  against  the  marble  pillars,  wrung 
By  the  dread  words,  striking  his  brow,  and  thrice 
Cried  he  aloud  in  anguish,  "  Varus !  Varus ! 
Give  back  my  legions,  Varus  !  " 

And  now  the  world-wide  conquerors  shrunk  and  feared 
For  fatherland  and  home. 

The  lance  to  raise;  and  'mongst  those  false  to  Rome 
The  death-lot  rolled,  t  and  still  they  shrunk  and  feared ; 

"  For  she  her  face  hath  turned 

The  victor  goddess,"  cried  those  cowards — (for  aye 

Be  it!) — "from  Rome  and  Romans,  and  her  day 

Is  done  " — and  still  be  mourned, 

And  cried  aloud  in  anguish,  "  Varus !  Varus ! 

Give  back  my  legions.  Varus !  "  X 

*  Augustus  was  worshipped  as  a  deity  in  his  lifetime, 
t  See  supra,  p.  139. 

%  I  have  taken  this  translation  from  an  anonymous  writer  in  French 
two  years  ago. 


THE   VICTORY   OF   ARMINIUS  139 


Synopsis   of  Events   between   Arminius'   Victory   Over 
Varus  and  the  Battle  of  Chalons. 

A.D.  43.  The  Romans  commence  the  conquest  of  Britain, 
Claudius  being  then  Emperor  of  Rome.  The  population  of 
this  island  was  then  Celtic.  In  about  forty  years  all  the  tribes 
south  of  the  Clyde  were  subdued,  and  their  land  made  a  Roman 
province. 

58 — 60.  Successful  campaigns  of  the  Roman  general  Corbulo 
against  the  Parthians. 

64.  First  persecution  of  the  Christians  at  Rome  under  Nero. 

68 — 70.  Civil  wars  in  the  Roman  world.  The  Emperors  Nero, 
Galba,  Otho,  and  Vitellius  cut  off  successively  by  violent  deaths. 
Vespasian  becomes  emperor. 

70.  Jerusalem  destroyed  by  the  Romans  under  Titus. 

83.  Futile  attack  of  Domitian  on  the  Germans. 

86.  Beginning  of  the  wars  between  the  Romans  and  the 
Dacians. 

98 — 117.  Trajan  emperor  of  Rome.  Under  him  the  empire 
acquires  its  greatest  territorial  extent  by  his  conquests  in  Dacia 
and  in  the  East.  His  successor,  Hadrian,  abandons  the  prov- 
inces beyond  the  Euphrates  which  Trajan  had  conquered. 

138 — 180.  Era  of  the  Antonines. 

167 — 176.  A  long  and  desperate  war  between  Rome  and  a 
great  confederacy  of  the  German  nations.  Marcus  Antoninus 
at  last  succeeds  in  repelling  them. 

192 — 197.  Civil  wars  throughout  the  Roman  world.  Se- 
verus  becomes  emperor.  He  relaxes  the  discipline  of  the  sol- 
diers. After  his  death,  in  211,  the  series  of  military  insurrec- 
tions, civil  wars,  and  murders  of  emperors  recommences. 

226.  Artaxerxes  (Ardisheer)  overthrows  the  Parthian,  and 
restores  the  Persian  kingdom  in  Asia.  He  attacks  the  Roman 
possessions  in  the  East. 

250.  The  Goths  invade  the  Roman  provinces.  The  Em- 
peror Decius  is  defeated  and  slain  by  them. 

253 — 260.  The  Franks  and  Alemanni  invade  Gaul,  Spain,  and 
Africa.  The  Goths  attack  Asia  Minor  and  Greece.  The  Per- 
sian conquer  Armenia.  Their  king,  Sapor,  defeats  the  Roman 
Emperor  Valerian,  and  takes  him  prisoner.  General  distress  of 
the  Roman  empire. 


I40  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

268 — 283.  The  Emperors  Claudius,  Aurelian,  Tacitus,  Pro- 
bus,  and  Carus  defeat  the  various  enemies  of  Rome,  and  restore 
order  in  the  Roman  state. 

285.  Diocletian  divides  and  reorganizes  the  Roman  empire. 
After  his  abdication  in  305  a  fresh  series  of  civil  wars  and  con- 
fusion ensues.  Constantine,  the  first  Christian  emperor,  re- 
unites the  empire  in  324. 

330.  Constantine  makes  Constantinople  the  seat  of  empire 
instead  of  Rome. 

363.  The  Emperor  Julian  is  killed  in  action  against  the  Per- 
sians. 

264 — 375.  The  empire  is  again  divided,  Valentinian  being 
emperor  of  the  West,  and  Valens  of  the  East.  Valentinian  re- 
pulses the  Alemanni,  and  other  German  invaders  from  Gaul. 
Splendor  of  the  Gothic  kingdom  under  Hermanric,  north  of  the 
Danube. 

375 — 395.  The  Huns  attack  the  Goths,  who  implore  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Roman  emperor  of  the  East.  The  Goths  are  al- 
lowed to  pass  the  Danube,  and  to  settle  in  the  Roman  provinces. 
A  war  soon  breaks  out  between  them  and  the  Romans,  and  the 
Emperor  Valens  and  his  army  are  destroyed  by  them.  They 
ravage  the  Roman  territories.  The  Emperor  Theodosius  re- 
duces them  to  submission.  They  retain  settlements  in  Thrace 
and  Asia  Minor. 

395.  Final  division  of  the  Roman  empire  between  Arcadius 
and  Honorius,  the  two  sons  of  Theodosius.  The  Goths  revolt, 
and  under  Alaric  attack  various  parts  of  both  the  Roman  em- 
pires. 

410.  Alaric  takes  the  city  of  Rome. 

412.  The  Goths  march  into  Gaul,  and  in  414  into  Spain, 
which  had  been  invaded  by  hosts  of  Vandals,  Suevi,  Alani,  and 
other  Germanic  nations.  Britain  is  formally  abandoned  by 
the  Roman  empire  of  the  West. 

428.  Genseric,  king  of  the  Vandals,  conquers  the  Roman 
province  of  North  Africa. 

441.  The  Huns  attack  the  Eastern  empire. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  CHALONS,  A.D.  451. 

"  The  discomfiture  of  the  mighty  attempt  of  Attila  to  found  a  new  anti- 
Christian  dynasty  upon  the  wreck  of  the  temporal  power  of  Rome,  at 
the  end  of  the  term  of  twelve  hundred  years,  to  which  its  duration  had 
been  limited  by  the  forebodings  of  the  heathen." — Herbert. 

ABROAD  expanse  of  plains,  the  Campi  Catalaunici  of 
the  ancients,  spreads  far  and  wide  around  the  city  of 
Chalons,  in  the  northeast  of  France.  The  long  rows  of 
poplars,  through  which  the  River  Marne  winds  its  way,  and  a 
few  thinly  scattered  villages,  are  almost  the  only  objects  that 
vary  the  monotonous  aspect  of  the  greater  part  of  this  region. 
But  about  five  miles  from  Chalons,  near  the  little  hamlets  of 
Chape  and  Cuperly,  the  ground  is  indented  and  heaped  up  in 
ranges  of  grassy  mounds  and  trenches,  which  attest  the  work  of 
man's  hands  in  ages  past,  and  which,  to  the  practised  eye,  dem- 
onstrate that  this  quiet  spot  has  once  been  the  fortified  position 
of  a  huge  military  host. 

Local  tradition  gives  to  these  ancient  earth-works  the  name 
of  Attila's  Camp.  Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  question  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  title,  or  to  doubt  that  behind  these  very  ram- 
parts it  was  that  1,400  years  ago  the  most  powerful  heathen  king 
that  ever  ruled  in  Europe  mustered  the  remnants  of  his  vast 
army,  which  had  striven  on  these  plains  against  the  Christian 
soldiery  of  Toulouse  and  Rome.  Here  it  was  that  Attila  pre- 
pared to  resist  to  the  death  his  victors  in  the  field  ;  and  here  he 
heaped  up  the  treasures  of  his  camp  in  one  vast  pile,  which  was 
to  be  his  funeral  pyre  should  his  camp  be  stormed.  It  was  here 
that  the  Gothic  and  Italian  forces  watched,  but  dared  not  assail 
their  enemy  in  his  despair,  after  that  great  and  terrible  day  of 

battle  when 

" The  sound 
Of  conflict  was  o'erpast,  the  shout  of  all 
Whom  earth  could  send  from  her  remotest  bounds. 
Heathen  or  faithful ;  from  thy  hundred  mouths, 
141 


142  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

That  feed  the  Caspian  with  Riphean  snows. 
Huge  Volga !  from  famed  Hypanis,  which  oiKC 
Cradled  the  Hun ;  from  all  the  countless  realms 
Between  Imaus  and  that  utmost  strand 
Where  columns  of  Herculean  rock  confront 
The  blown  Atlantic ;  Roman,  Goth,  and  Hun, 
And  Scythian  strength  of  chivalry,  that  tread 
The  cold  Codanian  shore,  or  what  far  lands 
Inhospitable  drink  Cimmerian  floods, 
Franks,  Saxons,  Suevic,  and  Sarmatian  chiefs, 
And  who  from  green  Armorica  or  Spain 
Flocked  to  the  work  of  death."  * 

The  victory  which  the  Roman  general,  Aetius,  with  his 
Gothic  alHes,  had  then  gained  over  the  Huns,  was  the  last  vic- 
tory of  imperial  Rome.  But  among  the  long  Fasti  of  her  tri- 
umphs, few  can  be  found  that,  for  their  importance  and  ultimate 
benefit  to  mankind,  are  comparable  with  this  expiring  effort 
of  her  arms.  It  did  not,  indeed,  open  to  her  any  new  career  of 
conquest — it  did  not  consolidate  the  relics  of  her  power — it  did 
not  turn  the  rapid  ebb  of  her  fortunes.  The  mission  of  im- 
perial Rome  was,  in  truth,  already  accomplished.  She  had  re- 
ceived and  transmitted  through  her  once  ample  dominion  the 
civilization  of  Greece.  She  had  broken  up  the  barriers  of  nar- 
row nationalities  among  the  various  states  and  tribes  that  dwelt 
around  the  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean.  She  had  fused  these 
and  many  other  races  into  one  organized  empire,  bound  to- 
gether by  a  community  of  laws,  of  government  and  institutions. 
Under  the  shelter  of  her  full  power  the  True  Faith  had  arisen 
in  the  earth,  and  during  the  years  of  her  decline  it  had  been 
nourished  to  maturity,  it  had  overspread  all  the  provinces  that 
ever  obeyed  her  sway.f  For  no  beneficial  purpose  to  mankind 
could  the  dominion  of  the  seven-hilled  city  have  been  restored 
or  prolonged.  But  it  was  all-important  to  mankind  what  na- 
tions should  divide  among  them  Rome's  rich  inheritance  of  em- 
pire. Whether  the  Germanic  and  Gothic  warriors  should  form 
states  and  kingdoms  out  of  the  fragments  of  her  dominions, 
and  become  the  free  members  of  the  commonwealth  of  Chris- 
tian Europe ;  or  whether  pagan  savages,  from  the  wilds  of 
Central  Asia,  should  crush  the  relics  of  classic  civilization  and 
the  early  institutions  of  the  Christianized  Germans  in  one  hope- 

*  Herbert's  "  Attila,"  book  i..  line  13. 

t  See  the  Introduction  to  Ranke's  "  History  of  the  Popes." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  CHALONS  143 

less  chaos  of  barbaric  conquest.  The  Christian  Visigoths  of 
King  Theodoric  fought  and  triumphed  at  Chalons  side  by  side 
with  the  legions  of  Aetius.  Their  joint  victory  over  the  Hun- 
nish  host  not  only  rescued  for  a  time  from  destruction  the  old 
age  of  Rome,  but  preserved  for  centuries  of  power  and  glory 
the  Germanic  element  in  the  civilization  of  modern  Europe. 

In  order  to  estimate  the  full  importance  to  mankind  of  the 
battle  of  Chalons,  we  must  keep  steadily  in  mind  who  and  what 
the  Germans  were,  and  the  important  distinctions  between 
them  and  the  numerous  other  races  that  assailed  the  Roman 
empire ;  and  it  is  to  be  understood  that  the  Gothic  and  Scan- 
dinavian nations  are  included  in  the  German  race.  Now,  "  in 
two  remarkable  traits,  the  Germans  differed  from  the  Sarmatic 
as  well  as  from  the  Slavic  nations,  and,  indeed,  from  all  those 
other  races  to  whom  the  Greeks  and  Romans  gave  the  designa- 
tion of  barbarians.  I  allude  to  their  personal  freedom  and  re- 
gard for  the  rights  of  men ;  secondly,  to  the  respect  paid  by 
them  to  the  female  sex,  and  the  chastity  for  which  the  latter 
were  celebrated  among  the  people  of  the  North.  These  were 
the  foundations  of  that  probity  of  character,  self-respect,  ana 
purity  of  manners  which  may  be  traced  among  the  Germans 
and  Goths  even  during  pagan  times,  and  which,  when  their 
sentiments  were  enlightened  by  Christianity,  brought  out  those 
splendid  traits  of  character  which  distinguish  the  age  of  chivalry 
and  romance."*  What  the  intermixture  of  the  German  stock 
with  the  classic,  at  the  fall  of  the  Western  empire,  has  done  for 
mankind,  may  be  best  felt  by  watching,  with  Arnold,  over  how 
large  a  portion  of  the  earth  the  influence  of  the  German  element 
is  now  extended. 

"  It  affects,  more  or  less,  the  whole  west  of  Europe,  from 
the  head  of  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia  to  the  most  southern  promon- 
tory of  Sicily,  from  the  Oder  and  the  Adriatic  to  the  Hebrides 
and  to  Lisbon.  It  is  true  that  the  language  spoken  over  a 
large  portion  of  this  space  is  not  predominantly  German ;  but 
even  in  France,  and  Italy,  and  Spain,  the  influence  of  the 
Franks,  Burgundians,  Visigoths,  Ostrogoths,  and  Lombards 
while  it  has  colored  even  the  language,  has  in  blood  and  insti- 
tutions left  its  mark  legibly  and  indelibly.  Germany,  the  Low 
Countries,  Switzerland  for  the  most  part,  Denmark,  Norway, 

*  See  Prichard's  "  Researches  into  the  Physical  History  of  Man,"  vol. 
ii.,  p.  423- 


144  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

and  Sweden,  and  our  own  islands  are  all  in  language,  in  blood, 
and  in  institutions,  German  most  decidedly.  But  all  South 
America  is  peopled  with  Spaniards  and  Portuguese ;  all  North 
America,  and  all  Australia  with  Englishmen.  I  say  nothing  of 
the  prospects  and  influence  of  the  German  race  in  Africa  and  in 
India :  it  is  enough  to  say  that  half  of  Europe,  and  all  America 
and  Australia,  are  German,  more  or  less  completely,  in  race,  in 
language,  or  in  institutions,  or  in  all."* 

By  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  Germanic  nations  had  set- 
tled themselves  in  many  of  the  fairest  regions  of  the  Roman 
empire,  had  imposed  their  yoke  on  the  provincials,  and  had  un- 
dergone, to  a  considerable  extent,  that  moral  conquest  which 
the  arts  and  refinements  of  the  vanquished  in  arms  have  so  often 
achieved  over  the  rough  victor.  The  Visigoths  held  the  north 
of  Spain,  and  Gaul  south  of  the  Loire.  Franks,  Alemanni, 
Alans,  and  Burgundians  had  established  themselves  in  other 
Gallic  provinces,  and  the  Suevi  were  masters  of  a  large  south- 
ern portion  of  the  Spanish  peninsula.  A  king  of  the  Vandals 
reigned  in  North  Africa;  and  the  Ostrogoths  had  firmly 
planted  themselves  in  the  provinces  north  of  Italy.  Of  these 
powers  and  principalities,  that  of  the  Visigoths,  under  their 
king  Theodoric,  son  of  Alaric,  was  by  far  the  first  in  power  and 
in  civilization. 

The  pressure  of  the  Huns  upon  Europe  had  first  been  felt 
in  the  fourth  century  of  our  era.  They  had  long  been  formida- 
ble to  the  Chinese  empire,  but  the  ascendency  in  arms  which 
another  nomadic  tribe  of  Central  Asia,  the  Sienpi,  gained  over 
them,  drove  the  Huns  from  their  Chinese  conquest  westward ; 
and  this  movement  once  being  communicated  to  the  whole 
chain  of  barbaric  nations  that  dwelt  northward  of  the  Black  Sea 
and  the  Roman  empire,  tribe  after  tribe  of  savage  warriors 
broke  in  upon  the  barriers  of  civilized  Europe.  "  Velut  unda 
supervenit  undam."  The  Huns  crossed  the  Tanais  into  Europe 
in  375,  and  rapidly  reduced  to  subjection  the  Alans,  the  Ostro- 
goths, and  other  tribes  that  were  then  dwelling  along  the  course 
of  the  Danube.  The  armies  of  the  Roman  emperor  that  tried 
to  check  their  progress  were  cut  to  pieces  by  them,  and  Pan- 
nonia  and  other  provinces  south  of  the  Danube  were  speedily 
occupied  by  the  victorious  cavalry  of  these  new  invaders.  Not 
merely  the  degenerate  Romans  but  the  bold  and  hardy  warriors 
*  Arnold's  "  Lectures  on  Modern  History,"  p.  35. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CHALONS  I45 

of  Germany  and  Scandinavia,  were  appalled  at  the  number,  the 
ferocity,  the  ghastly  appearance,  and  the  lightning-like  rapid- 
ity of  the  Huns.  Strange  and  loathsome  legends  were  coined 
and  credited  which  attributed  their  origin  to  the  union  of 

"  Secret,  black,  and  midnight  hags," 

with  the  evil  spirits  of  the  wilderness. 

Tribe  after  tribe,  and  city  after  city,  fell  before  them.  Then 
came  a  pause  in  their  career  of  conquest  in  southwestern  Eu- 
rope, caused  probably  by  dissensions  among  their  chiefs,  and 
also  by  their  arms  being  employed  in  attacks  upon  the  Scan- 
dinavian nations.  But  when  Attila  (or  Atzel,  as  he  is  called  in 
the  Hungarian  language)  became  their  ruler,  the  torrent  of 
their  arms  was  directed  with  augmented  terrors  upon  the  west 
and  the  south,  and  their  myriads  marched  beneath  the  guidance 
of  one  master-mind  to  the  overthrow  both  of  the  new  and  the 
old  powers  of  the  earth. 

Recent  events  have  thrown  such  a  strong  interest  over  every- 
thing connected  with  the  Hungarian  name,  that  even  the  ter- 
rible renown  of  Attila  now  impresses  us  the  more  vividly 
through  our  sympathizing  admiration  of  the  exploits  of  those 
who  claim  to  be  descended  from  his  warriors,  and  "  ambitiously 
insert  the  name  of  Attila  among  their  native  kings."  The  au- 
thenticity of  this  martial  genealogy  is  denied  by  some  writers 
and  questioned  by  more.  But  it  is  at  least  certain  that  the 
Magyars  of  Arpad,  who  are  the  immediate  ancestors  of  the 
bulk  of  the  modern  Hungarians,  and  who  conquered  the  coun- 
try which  bears  the  name  of  Hungary  in  a.d.  889,  were  of  the 
same  stock  of  mankind  as  were  the  Huns  of  Attila,  even  if  they 
did  not  belong  to  the  same  subdivision  of  that  stock.  Nor  is 
there  any  improbability  in  the  tradition  that  after  Attila's 
death  many  of  his  warriors  remained  in  Hungary,  and  that  their 
descendants  afterwards  joined  the  Huns  of  Arpad  in  their  career 
of  conquest.  It  is  certain  that  Attila  made  Hungary  the  seat 
of  his  empire.  It  seems  also  susceptible  of  clear  proof  that  the 
territory  was  then  called  Hungvar  and  Attila's  soldiers  Hun- 
gvari.  Both  the  Huns  of  Attila  and  those  of  Arpad  came  from 
the  family  of  nomadic  nations  whose  primitive  regions  were 
those  vast  wildernesses  of  High  Asia  which  are  included  be- 
tween the  Altaic  and  the  Himalayan  mountain  chains.  The  in- 
roads of  these  tribes  upon  the  lower  regions  of  Asia  and  mto 


146  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Europe  have  caused  many  of  the  most  remarkable  revolutions 
in  the  history  of  the  world.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that 
swarms  of  these  nations  made  their  way  into  distant  parts  of  the 
earth,  at  periods  long  before  the  date  of  the  Scythian  invasion 
of  Asia,  which  is  the  earliest  inroad  of  the  nomadic  race  that 
history  records.  The  first,  as  far  as  we  can  conjecture,  in  re- 
spect to  the  time  of  their  descent,  were  the  Finnish  and  Ugrian 
tribes,  who  appear  to  have  come  down  from  the  Altaic  border 
of  High  Asia  towards  the  northwest,  in  which  direction  they 
advanced  to  the  Uralian  Mountains.  There  they  established 
themselves ;  and  that  mountain  chain,  with  its  valleys  and 
pasture  lands,  became  to  them  a  new  country,  whence  they  sent 
out  colonies  on  every  side ;  but  the  Ugrian  colony,  which,  un- 
der Arpad,  occupied  Hungary,  and  became  the  ancestors  of  the 
bulk  of  the  present  Hungarian  nation,  did  not  quit  their  settle- 
ments on  the  Uralian  Mountains  till  a  very  late  period,  and  not 
until  four  centuries  after  the  time  when  Attila  led  from  the 
primary  seats  of  the  nomadic  races  in  High  Asia  the  host  with 
which  he  advanced  into  the  heart  of  France.*  That  host  was 
Turkish,  but  closely  allied  in  origin,  language,  and  habits  with 
the  Finno-Ugrian  settlers  on  the  Ural. 

Attila's  fame  has  not  come  down  to  us  through  the  partial 
and  suspicious  medium  of  chroniclers  and  poets  of  his  own 
race.  It  is  not  from  Hunnish  authorities  that  we  learn  the  ex- 
tent of  his  might :  it  is  from  his  enemies,  from  the  literature 
and  the  legends  of  the  nations  whom  he  afflicted  with  his  arms, 
that  we  draw  the  unquestionable  evidence  of  his  greatness.  Be- 
sides the  express  narratives  of  Byzantine,  Latin,  and  Gothic 
writers,  we  have  the  strongest  proof  of  the  stern  reality  of  At- 
tila's conquests  in  the  extent  to  which  he  and  his  Huns  have 
been  the  themes  of  the  earliest  German  and  Scandinavian  lays. 
Wild  as  many  of  those  legends  are,  they  bear  concurrent  and 
certain  testimony  to  the  awe  with  which  the  memory  of  Attila 
was  regarded  by  the  bold  warriors  who  composed  and  delighted 
in  them.  Attila's  exploits,  and  the  wonders  of  his  unearthly 
steed  and  magic  sword,  repeatedly  occur  in  the  Sagas  of  Nor- 
way and  Iceland ;  and  the  celebrated  Niebelungen  Lied,  the 
most  ancient  of  Germanic  poetry,  is  full  of  them.  There  Etsel, 
or  Attila,  is  described  as  the  wearer  of  twelve  mighty  crowns, 
and  as  promising  to  his  bride  the  lands  of  thirty  kings,  whom 

*  See  Prichard's  "  Researches  into  the  Physical  History  of  Mankind." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  CHALONS  147 

his  irresistible  sword  had  subdued.  He  is,  in  fact,  the  hero  of 
the  latter  part  of  this  remarkable  poem  ;  and  it  is  at  his  capital 
city,  Etselenburgh,  which  evidently  corresponds  to  the  modern 
Buda,  that  much  of  its  action  takes  place. 

When  we  turn  from  the  legendary  to  the  historic  Attila,  we 
see  clearly  that  he  was  not  one  of  the  vulgar  herd  of  barbaric 
conquerors.  Consummate  military  skill  may  be  traced  in  his 
campaigns ;  and  he  relied  far  less  on  the  brute  force  of  armies 
for  the  aggrandizement  of  his  empire,  than  on  the  unbounded 
influence  over  the  affections  of  friends  and  the  fears  of  foes 
which  his  genius  enabled  him  to  acquire.  Austerely  sober  in 
his  private  life — severely  just  on  the  judgment  seat — conspicu- 
ous among  a  nation  of  warriors  for  hardihood,  strength,  and 
skill  in  every  martial  exercise — grave  and  deliberate  in  coun- 
sel, but  rapid  and  remorseless  in  execution,  he  gave  safety  and 
security  to  all  who  were  under  his  dominion,  while  he  waged 
a  warfare  of  extermination  against  all  who  opposed  or  sought 
to  escape  from  it.  He  watched  the  national  passions,  the 
prejudices,  the  creeds,  and  the  superstitions  of  the  varied  na- 
tions over  which  he  ruled,  and  of  those  which  he  sought  to  re- 
duce beneath  his  sw^ay :  all  these  feelings  he  had  the  skill  to 
turn  to  his  own  account.  His  own  warriors  believed  him  to  be 
the  inspired  favorite  of  their  deities,  and  followed  him  with 
fanatic  zeal ;  his  enemies  looked  on  him  as  the  pre-appointed 
minister  of  heaven's  wrath  against  themselves ;  and  though 
they  believed  not  in  his  creed,  their  own  made  them  tremble 
before  him. 

In  one  of  his  early  campaigns  he  appeared  before  his  troops 
with  an  ancient  iron  sword  in  his  grasp,  which  he  told  them 
was  the  god  of  war  whom  their  ancestors  had  worshipped.  It 
is  certain  that  the  nomadic  tribes  of  Northern  Asia,  whom 
Herodotus  described  under  the  name  of  Scythians,  from  the 
earliest  times  worshipped  as  their  god  a  bare  sword.  That 
sword-god  was  supposed,  in  Attila's  time,  to  have  disappeared 
from  earth ;  but  the  Hunnish  king  now  claimed  to  have  re- 
ceived it  by  special  revelation.  It  was  said  that  a  herdsman, 
who  was  tracking  in  the  desert  a  wounded  heifer  by  the  drops 
of  blood,  found  the  mysterious  sword  standing  fixed  in  the 
ground,  as  if  it  had  darted  down  from  heaven.  The  herdsmen 
bore  it  to  Attila,  who  thenceforth  was  believed  by  the  Huns  to 
wield  the  Spirit  of  Death  in  battle,  and  their  seers  prophesied 


148  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

that  that  sword  was  to  destroy  the  world.  A  Roman,*  who  was 
on  an  embassy  to  the  Hunnish  camp,  recorded  in  his  memoirs 
Attila's  acquisition  of  this  supernatural  weapon,  and  the  im- 
mense influence  over  the  minds  of  the  barbaric  tribes  which 
its  possession  gave  him.  In  the  title  which  he  assumed  we  shall 
see  the  skill  with  which  he  availed  himself  of  the  legends  and 
creeds  of  other  nations  as  well  as  of  his  own.  He  designated 
himself  "  Attila^  Descendant  of  the  Great  Nimrod.  Nurtured 
in  Engaddi.  By  the  Grace  of  God,  King  of  the  Huns,  the 
Goths,  the  Danes,  and  the  Medes.    The  Dread  of  the  World." 

Herbert  states  that  Attila  is  represented  on  an  old  medallion 
with  a  Teraphim,  or  a  head,  on  his  breast ;  and  the  same  writer 
adds,  "  We  know,  from  the  '  Hamartigenea  '  of  Prudentius,  that 
Nimrod,  with  a  snaky-haired  head,  was  the  object  of  adoration 
of  the  heretical  followers  of  Marcion ;  and  the  same  head  was 
the  palladium  set  up  by  Antiochus  Epiphanes  over  the  gates  of 
Antioch,  though  it  has  been  called  the  visage  of  Charon.  The 
memory  of  Nimrod  was  certainly  regarded  with  mystic  venera- 
tion by  many ;  and  by  asserting  himself  to  be  the  heir  of  that 
mighty  hunter  before  the  Lord,  he  vindicated  to  himself  at  least 
the  whole  Babylonian  kingdom. 

"  The  singular  assertion  in  his  style,  that  he  was  nurtured 
in  Engaddi,  where  he  certainly  had  never  been,  will  be  more 
easily  understood  on  reference  to  the  twelfth  chapter  of  the 
Book  of  Revelation,  concerning  the  woman  clothed  with  the 
sun,  who  was  to  bring  forth  in  the  wilderness — '  where  she  hath 
a  place  prepared  of  God  ' — a  man-child,  who  was  to  contend 
with  the  dragon  having  seven  heads  and  ten  horns,  and  rule 
all  nations  with  a  rod  of  iron.  This  prophecy  was  at  that  time 
understood  universally  by  the  sincere  Christians  to  refer  to  the 
birth  of  Constantine,  who  was  to  overwhelm  the  paganism  of 
the  city  on  the  seven  hills,  and  it  is  still  so  explained ;  but  it 
is  evident  that  the  heathens  must  have  looked  on  it  in  a  differ- 
ent light,  and  have  regarded  it  as  a  foretelling  of  the  birth  of 
that  Great  one  who  should  master  the  temporal  power  of  Rome, 
The  assertion,  therefore,  that  he  was  nurtured  in  Engaddi,  is 
a  claim  to  be  looked  upon  as  that  man-child  who  was  to  be 
brought  forth  in  a  place  prepared  of  God  in  the  wilderness. 
Engaddi  means  a  place  of  palms  and  vines  in  the  desert ;  it  was 
hard  by  Zoar,  the  city  of  refuge,  which  was  saved  in  the  Vale 
*  Priscus  apud  Jornandem. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  CHALONS  149 

of  Siddini,  or  Demons,  when  the  rest  were  destroyed  by  fire 
and  brimstone  from  the  Lord  in  heaven  and  might,  therefore, 
be  especially  called  a  place  prepared  of  God  in  the  wilderness." 

It  is  obvious  enough  why  he  styled  himself  "  By  the  Grace 
of  God,  King  of  the  Huns  and  Goths" ;  and  it  seems  far  from 
difficult  to  see  why  he  added  the  names  of  the  Medes  and  the 
Danes.  His  armies  had  been  engaged  in  warfare  against  the 
Persian  kingdom  of  the  Sassanidae,  and  it  is  certain*  that  he 
meditated  the  invasion  and  overthrow  of  the  Medo-Persian 
power.  Probably  some  of  the  northern  provinces  of  that 
kingdom  had  been  compelled  to  pay  him  tribute ;  and  this  would 
account  for  his  styling  himself  King  of  the  Medes,  they  being 
his  remotest  subjects  to  the  south.  From  a  similar  cause,  he 
may  have  called  himself  King  of  the  Danes,  as  his  power  may 
well  have  extended  northward  as  far  as  the  nearest  of  the 
Scandinavian  nations,  and  this  mention  of  Medes  and  Danes  as 
his  subjects  would  serve  at  once  to  indicate  the  vast  extent  of  his 
dominion. f 

The  immense  territory  north  of  the  Danube  and  Black  Sea 
and  eastward  of  Caucasus,  over  which  Attila  ruled,  first  in  con- 
junction with  his  brother  Bleda,  and  afterwards  alone,  cannot  be 
very  accurately  defined,  but  it  must  have  comprised  within  it, 
besides  the  Huns,  many  nations  of  Slavic,  Gothic,  Teutonic, 
and  Finnish  origin.  South  also  of  the  Danube,  the  country, 
from  the  River  Sau,  as  far  as  Novi  in  Thrace,  w^as  a  Hunnish 
province.  Such  w^as  the  empire  of  the  Huns  in  a.d.  445 ;  a 
memorable  year,  in  which  Attila  founded  Buda  on  the  Danube 
as  his  capital  city,  and  ridded  himself  of  his  brother  by  a  crime 
v/hich  seems  to  have  been  prompted  not  only  by  selfish  ambi- 
tion, but  also  by  a  desire  of  turning  to  his  purpose  the  legends 
and  forebodings  which  then  were  universally  spread  through- 
out the  Roman  empire,  and  must  have  been  well  known  to 
the  w'atchful  and  ruthless  Hun. 

The  year  445  of  our  era  completed  the  twelfth  century  from 
the  foundation  of  Rome,  according  to  the  best  chronologers. 
It  had  always  been  believed  among  the  Romans  that  the  twelve 

*  See  the  narrative  of  Priscus. 

t  In  the  "  Niebelungen  Lied,"  the  old  poet  who  describes  the  reception 
of  the  heroine  Chrimhild  by  Attila  [Etsel],  says  that  Attila's  dominions 
were  so  vast  that  among  his  subject-warriors  there  were  Russian,  Greek, 
Wallachian,  Polish,  and  even  Danish  knights. 


150  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

vultures,  which  were  said  to  have  appeared  to  Romulus  when 
he  founded  the  city,  signified  the  time  during  which  the  Roman 
power  should  endure.  The  twelve  vultures  denoted  twelve 
centuries.  This  interpretation  of  the  vision  of  the  birds  of 
destiny  was  current  among  learned  Romans,  even  when  there 
were  yet  many  of  the  twelve  centuries  to  run,  and  while  the 
imperial  city  was  at  the  zenith  of  its  power.  But  as  the  allotted 
time  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  its  conclusion,  and  as  Rome 
grew  weaker  and  weaker  beneath  the  blows  of  barbaric  in- 
vaders, the  terrible  omen  was  more  and  more  talked  and  thought 
of;  and  in  Attila's  time,  men  watched  for  the  momentary  ex- 
tinction of  the  Roman  state  with  the  last  beat  of  the  last  vul- 
ture's wing.  Moreover,  among  the  numerous  legends  con- 
nected with  the  foundation  of  the  city,  and  the  fratricidal  death 
of  Remus,  there  was  one  most  terrible  one,  which  told  that 
Romulus  did  not  put  his  brother  to  death  in  accident  or  in  hasty 
quarrel,  but  that 

"  He  slew  his  gallant  twin 
With  inexpiable  sin," 

•  deliberately  and  in  compliance  with  the  warnings  of  super- 
natural powers.  The  shedding  of  a  brother's  blood  was  be- 
lieved to  have  been  the  price  at  which  the  founder  of  Rome  had 
.purchased  from  destiny  her  twelve  centuries  of  existence.* 

We  may  imagine,  therefore,  with  what  terror  in  this,  the 
-twelve  hundredth  year  after  the  foundation  of  Rome,  the  in- 
habitants of  the  Roman  empire  must  have  heard  the  tidings 
that  the  royal  brethren,  Attila  and  Bleda,  had  founded  a  new 
capital  on  the  Danube,  which  was  designed  to  rule  over  the 
ancient  capital  on  the  Tiber ;  and  that  Attila,  like  Romulus,  had 
consecrated  the  foundations  of  his  new  city  by  murdering  his 
brother;  so  that  for  the  new  cycle  of  centuries  then  about  to 
commence,  dominion  had  been  bought  from  the  gloomy  spirits 
of  destiny  in  favor  of  the  Hun  by  a  sacrifice  of  equal  awe  and 
value  with  that  which  had  formerly  obtained  it  for  the  Roman. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  not  only  the  pagans,  but  also 
;the  Christians  of  that  age,  knew  and  believed  in  these  legends 

*  See  a  curious  justification  of  Attila  for  murdering  his  brother,  by  a 
•zealous  Hungarian  advocate,  in  the  note  to  Pray's  "  Annales  Hun- 
norum,"  p.  117.     The  example  of  Romulus  is  the  main  authority  quoted. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CHALONS  151 

and  omens,  however  they  might  differ  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
superhuman  agency  by  which  such  mysteries  had  been  made 
known  to  mankind.  And  we  may  observe,  with  Herbert,  a 
modern  learned  dignitary  of  our  church,  how  remarkably  this 
augury  was  fulfilled ;  for  "  if  to  the  twelve  centuries  denoted 
by  the  twelve  vultures  that  appeared  to  Romulus,  we  add  for 
the  six  birds  that  appeared  to  Remus  six  lustra,  or  periods  of 
five  years  each,  by  which  the  Romans  were  wont  to  number 
their  time,  it  brings  us  precisely  to  the  year  476,  in  which  the 
Roman  empire  was  finally  extinguished  by  Odoacer." 

An  attempt  to  assassinate  Attila,  made,  or  supposed  to  have 
been  made,  at  the  instigation  of  Theodoric  the  younger,  the 
Emperor  of  Constantinople,  drew  the  Hunnish  armies,  in  445, 
upon  the  Eastern  empire,  and  delayed  for  a  time  the  destined 
blow  against  Rome.  Probably  a  more  important  cause  of  delay 
was  the  revolt  of  some  of  the  Hunnish  tribes  to  the  north  of  the 
Black  Sea  against  Attila,  which  broke  out  about  this  period, 
and  is  cursorily  mentioned  by  the  Byzantine  writers.  Attila 
quelled  this  revolt,  and  having  thus  consolidated  his  power,  and 
having  punished  the  presumption  of  the  Eastern  Roman  em- 
peror by  fearful  ravages  of  his  fairest  provinces,  Attila,  in  450 
A.D.,  prepared  to  set  vast  forces  in  motion  for  the  conquest 
of  Western  Europe.  He  sought  unsuccessfully  by  diplomatic 
intrigues  to  detach  the  King  of  the  Visigoths  from  his  alliance 
with  Rome,  and  he  resolved  first  to  crush  the  power  of  Theo- 
doric, and  then  to  advance  with  overwhelming  power  to  trample 
out  the  last  sparks  of  the  doomed  Roman  empire. 

A  strong  invitation  from  a  Roman  princess  gave  him  a  pre- 
text for  the  war,  and  threw  an  air  of  chivalric  enterprise  over 
his  invasion.  Honoria,  sister  of  Valentinian  IH.,  the  Emperor 
of  the  West,  had  sent  to  Attila  to  offer  him  her  hand  and  her 
supposed  right  to  share  in  the  imperial  power.  This  had  been 
discovered  by  the  Romans,  and  Honoria  had  been  forthwith 
closely  imprisoned.  Attila  now  pretended  to  take  up  arms  in 
behalf  of  his  self-promised  bride,  and  proclaimed  that  he  was 
about  to  march  to  Rome  to  redress  Honoria's  wrongs.  Ambi- 
tion and  spite  against  her  brother  must  have  been  the  sole  mo- 
tives that  led  the  lady  to  woo  the  royal  Hun ;  for  Attila's  face 
and  person  had  all  the  natural  ugliness  of  his  race,  and  the  de- 
scription given  of  him  by  a  Byzantine  ambassador  must  have 
been  well  known  in  the  imperial  courts.     Herbert  has  well  ver- 


152  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

sified  the  portrait  drawn  by  Priscus  of  the  great  enemy  of  both 
Byzantium  and  Rome : 

"  Terrific  was  his  semblance,  in  no  mould 
Of  beautiful  proportion  cast;  his  limbs 
Nothing  exalted,  but  with  sinews  braced 
Of  chalybsean  temper,  agile,  lithe, 
And  swifter  than  the  roe;  his  ample  chest 
Was  overbrow'd  by  a  gigantic  head. 
With  eyes  keen,  deeply  sunk,  and  small,  that  gleam'd 
Strangely  in  wrath  as  though  some  spirit  unclean 
Within  that  corporal  tenement  install'd 
Look'd  from  its  windows,  but  with  temper'd  fire 
Beam'd  mildly  on  the  unresisting.    Thin 
His  beard  and  hoary ;  his  flat  nostrils  crown'd 
A  cicatrized,  swart  visage;  but,  withal, 
That  questionable  shape  such  glory  wore 
That  mortals  quail'd  beneath  him." 

Two  chiefs  of  the  Franks,  who  were  then  settled  on  the  Lower 
Rhine,  were  at  this  period  engaged  in  a  feud  with  each  other, 
and  while  one  of  them  appealed  to  the  Romans  for  aid,  the  other 
invoked  the  assistance  and  protection  of  the  Huns,  Attila  thus 
obtained  an  ally  whose  co-operation  secured  for  him  the  pass- 
age of  the  Rhine,  and  it  was  this  circumstance  which  caused  him 
to  take  a  northward  route  from  Hungary  for  his  attack  upon 
Gaul.  The  muster  of  the  Hunnish  hosts  was  swollen  by  war- 
riors of  every  tribe  that  they  had  subjugated ;  nor  is  there  any 
reason  to  suspect  the  old  chroniclers  of  wilful  exaggeration  in 
estimating  Attila's  army  at  seven  hundred  thousand  strong. 
Having  crossed  the  Rhine  probably  a  little  below  Coblentz,  he 
defeated  the  King  of  the  Burgundians,  who  endeavored  to 
bar  his  progress.  He  then  divided  his  vast  forces  into  two 
armies,  one  of  which  marched  northwest  upon  Tongres  and 
Arras,  and  the  other  cities  of  that  part  of  France,  while  the  main 
body,  under  Attila  himself,  advanced  up  the  Moselle,  and  de- 
stroyed Besanqon,  and  other  towns  in  the  country  of  Burgun- 
dians. One  of  the  latest  and  best  biographers  of  Attila*  well 
observes,  that,  "  having  thus  conquered  the  eastern  part  of 
France,  Attila  prepared  for  an  invasion  of  the  West  Gothic 
territories  beyond  the  Loire.  He  marched  upon  Orleans, 
where  he  intended  to  force  the  passage  of  that  river,  and  only  a 
little  attention  is  requisite  to  enable  us  to  perceive  that  he  pro- 

*  Biographical  Dictionary  commenced  by  the  Useful  Knowledge  So- 
ciety in  1844. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  CHALONS  153 

ceeded  on  a  systematic  plan:  he  had  his  right  wing  on  the 
north  for  the  protection  of  his  Frank  allies ;  his  left  wing  on 
the  south  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  Burgundians  from 
rallying,  and  of  menacing  the  passes  of  the  Alps  from  Italy ; 
and  he  led  his  centre  towards  the  chief  object  of  the  campaign — 
the  conquest  of  Orleans,  and  an  easy  passage  into  the  West 
Gothic  dominion.  The  whole  plan  is  very  like  that  of  the  allied 
powers  in  1814,  with  this  difference,  that  their  left  wing  en- 
tered France  through  the  defiles  of  the  Jura,  in  the  direction  of 
Lyons,  and  that  the  military  object  of  the  campaign  was  the 
capture  of  Paris." 

It  was  not  until  the  year  451  that  the  Huns  commenced  the 
siege  of  Orleans ;  and  during  their  campaign  in  Eastern  Gaul, 
the  Roman  general  Aetius  had  strenuously  exerted  himself  in 
collecting  and  organizing  such  an  army  as  might,  when  united 
to  the  soldiery  of  the  Visigoths,  be  fit  to  face  the  Huns  in  the 
field.  He  enlisted  every  subject  of  the  Roman  empire  whom 
patriotism,  courage,  or  compulsion  could  collect  beneath  the 
standards ;  and  round  these  troops,  which  assumed  the  once 
proud  title  of  the  legions  of  Rome,  he  arrayed  the  large  forces 
of  barbaric  auxiliaries,  whom  pay,  persuasion,  or  the  general 
hate  and  dread  of  the  Huns  brought  to  the  camp  of  the  last  of 
the  Roman  generals.  King  Theodoric  exerted  himself  with 
equal  energy.  Orleans  resisted  her  besiegers  bravely  as  in 
after  times.  The  passage  of  the  Loire  was  skilfully  defended 
against  the  Huns ;  and  Aetius  and  Theodoric,  after  much 
manoeuvring  and  difficulty,  effected  a  junction  of  their  armies 
to  the  south  of  that  important  river.  On  the  advance  of  the 
allies  upon  Orleans,  Attila  instantly  broke  up  the  siege  of  that 
city,  and  retreated  towards  the  Marne.  He  did  not  choose  to 
risk  a  decisive  battle  with  only  the  central  corps  of  his  army 
against  the  combined  power  of  his  enemies,  and  he  therefore 
fell  back  upon  his  base  of  operations,  calling  in  his  wings  from 
Arras  and  Besangon,  and  concentrating  the  whole  of  the  Hun- 
nish  forces  on  the  vast  plains  of  Chalons-sur-Marne.  A  glance 
at  the  map  will  show  how  scientifically  this  place  was  chosen 
by  the  Hunnish  general  as  the  point  for  his  scattered  forces  to 
converge  upon ;  and  the  nature  of  the  ground  was  eminently 
favorable  for  the  operations  of  cavalry,  the  arm  in  which  At- 
tila's  strength  peculiarly  lay. 

It  was  during  the  retreat  from  Orleans  that  a  Christian  her- 


,54  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

mit  is  reported  to  have  approached  the  Hunnish  king,  and  said 
to  him,  "  Thou  art  the  Scourge  of  God  for  the  chastisement  of 
the  Christians."  Attila  instantly  assumed  this  new  title  of 
terror,  which  thenceforth  became  the  appellation  by  which  he 
was  most  widely  and  most  fearfully  known. 

The  confederate  armies  of  Romans  and  Visigoths  at  last  met 
their  great  adversary  face  to  face  on  the  ample  battle-ground 
of  the  Chalons  plains.  Aetius  commanded  on  the  right  of  the 
allies  ;  King  Theodoric  on  the  left ;  and  Sangipan,  king  of  the 
Alans,  whose  fidelity  was  suspected,  was  placed  purposely  in 
the  centre,  and  in  the  very  front  of  the  battle.  Attila  com- 
manded his  centre  in  person,  at  the  head  of  his  own  country- 
men, while  the  Ostrogoths,  the  Gepidae,  and  the  other  subject 
allies  of  the  Huns  were  drawn  up  on  the  wings.  Some  man- 
CEUvring  appears  to  have  occurred  before  the  engagement,  in 
which  Aetius  had  the  advantage,  inasmuch  as  he  succeeded  in 
occupying  a  sloping  hill,  which  commanded  the  left  flank  of  the 
Huns.  Attila  saw  the  importance  of  the  position  taken  by 
Aetius  on  the  high  ground,  and  commenced  the  battle  by  a 
furious  attack  on  this  part  of  the  Roman  line,  in  which  he  seems 
to  have  detached  some  of  his  best  troops  from  his  centre  to  aid 
his  left.  The  Romans,  having  the  advantage  of  the  ground, 
repulsed  the  Huns,  and,  while  the  allies  gained  this  advantage 
on  their  right,  their  left,  under  King  Theodoric,  assailed  the 
Ostrogoths,  who  formed  the  right  of  Attila's  army.  The  gal- 
lant king  was  himself  struck  down  by  a  javelin,  as  he  rode  on- 
ward at  the  head  of  his  men ;  and  his  own  cavalry,  charging 
over  him,  trampled  him  to  death  in  the  confusion.  But  the 
Visigoths,  infuriated,  not  dispirited,  by  their  monarch's  fall, 
routed  the  enemies  opposed  to  them,  and  then  wheeled  upon 
the  flank  of  the  Hunnish  centre,  which  had  been  engaged  in  a 
sanguinary  and  indecisive  contest  with  the  Alans. 

In  this  peril  Attila  made  his  centre  fall  back  upon  his  camp ; 
and  when  the  shelter  of  its  intrenchments  and  wagons  had  once 
been  gained,  the  Hunnish  archers  repulsed,  without  difficulty, 
the  charges  of  the  vengeful  Gothic  cavalry.  Aetius  had  not 
pressed  the  advantage  which  he  gained  on  his  side  of  the  field, 
and,  when  night  fell  over  the  wild  scene  of  havoc,  Attila's  left 
was  still  undefeated,  but  his  right  had  been  routed,  and  his 
centre  forced  back  upon  his  camp. 

Expecting  an  assault  on  the  morrow,  Attila  stationed  his  best 


THE  BATTLE  OF  CHALONS  X55 

archers  in  front  of  the  cars  and  wagons,  which  were  drawn,  up 
as  a  fortification  along  his  Hnes,  and  made  every  preparation 
for  a  desperate  resistance.  But  the  "  Scourge  of  God  "  re- 
solved that  no  man  should  boast  of  the  honor  of  having  either 
captured  or  slain  him,  and  he  caused  to  be  raised  in  the  centre 
of  his  encampment  a  huge  pyramid  of  the  wooden  saddles  of  his 
cavalry :  round  it  he  heaped  the  spoils  and  the  wealth  that  he 
had  won ;  on  it  he  stationed  his  wives  who  had  accompanied 
him  in  the  campaign  ;  and  on  the  summit  Attila  placed  himself, 
ready  to  perish  in  the  flames,  and  balk  the  victorious  foe  of  their 
choicest  booty,  should  they  succeed  in  storming  his  defences. 

But  when  the  morning  broke  and  revealed  the  extent  of  the 
carnage  with  which  the  plains  were  heaped  for  miles,  the  suc- 
cessful allies  saw  also  and  respected  the  resolute  attitude  of  their 
antagonist.  Neither  were  any  measures  taken  to  blockade 
him  in  his  camp,  and  so  to  extort  by  famine  that  submission 
which  it  was  too  plainly  perilous  to  enforce  with  the  sword. 
Attila  was  allowed  to  march  back  the  remnants  of  his  army 
without  molestation,  and  even  with  the  semblance  of  success. 

It  is  probable  that  the  crafty  Aetius  was  unwilling  to  be  too 
victorious.  He  dreaded  the  glory  which  his  allies  the  Visi- 
goths had  acquired,  and  feared  that  Rome  might  find  a  second 
Alaric  in  Prince  Thorismund,  who  had  signalized  himself  in  the 
battle,  and  had  been  chosen  on  the  field  to  succeed  his  father, 
Theodoric.  He  persuaded  the  young  king  to  return  at  once  to 
his  capital,  and  thus  relieved  himself  at  the  same  time  of  the 
presence  of  a  dangerous  friend,  as  well  as  of  a  formidable 
though  beaten  foe. 

Attila's  attacks  on  the  Western  empire  were  soon  renewed, 
but  never  with  such  peril  to  the  civilized  world  as  had  menaced 
it  before  his  defeat  at  Chalons  ;  and  on  his  death,  two  years  after 
that  battle,  the  vast  empire  which  his  genius  had  founded  was 
soon  dissevered  by  the  successful  revolts  of  the  subject  nations. 
The  name  of  the  Huns  ceased  for  some  centuries  to  inspire  ter- 
ror in  Western  Europe,  and  their  ascendency  passed  away  with 
the  life  of  the  great  king  by  whom  it  had  been  so  fearfully 
augmented.* 

*  If  I  seem  to  have  given  fewer  of  the  details  of  the  battle  itself  than  its 
importance  would  warrant,  my  excuse  must  be,  that  Gibbon  has  enriched 
our  language  with  a  description  of  it,  too  long  for  quotation  and  too 
splendid  for  rivalry.  I  have  not,  however,  taken  altogether  the  same 
view  of  it  that  he  has.  The  notes  to  Mr.  Herbert's  poem  of  "  Attila  " 
bring  togetiier  nearly  all  the  authorities  on  the  subject. 


156  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Chalons, 
A.D.  451,  AND  the  Battle  of  Tours,  a.d.  732. 

A.D.  476.  The  Roman  empire  of  the  West  extinguished  by 
Odoacer. 

481.  Establishment  of  the  French  monarchy  in  Gaul  by 
Clovis. 

425 — 582.  The  Saxons,  Angles,  and  Frisians  conquer  Brit- 
ain, except  the  northern  parts  and  the  districts  along  the  west 
coast.  The  German  conquerors  found  eight  independent  king- 
doms. 

533 — 568.  The  generals  of  Justinian,  the  Emperor  of  Con- 
stantinople, conquer  Italy  and  North  Africa ;  and  these  coun- 
tries are  for  a  short  time  annexed  to  the  Roman  empire  of  the 
East. 

568 — 570.  The  Lombards  conquer  great  part  of  Italy. 

570 — 627.  The  wars  between  the  emperors  of  Constantinople 
and  the  kings  of  Persia  are  actively  continued. 

622.  The  Mohammedan  era  of  the  Hegira.  Mohammed  is 
driven  from  Mecca,  and  is  received  as  prince  of  Medina. 

629 — 632.  Mohammed  conquers  Arabia. 

632 — 651.  The  Mohammedan  Arabs  invade  and  conquer 
Persia. 

632 — 709.  They  attack  the  Roman  empire  of  the  East.  They 
conquer  Syria,  Egypt,  and  Africa. 

709 — 713.  They  cross  the  straits  of  Gibraltar,  and  invade  and 
conquer  Spain. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   BATTLE   OF   TOURS,   A.D.   732. 

"  The  events  that  rescued  our  ancestors  of  Britain  and  our  neighbors 
of  Gaul  from  the  civil  and  religious  yoke  of  the  Koran." — Gibbon. 

THE  broad  tract  of  champaign  country  which  intervenes 
between  the  cities  of  Poitiers  and  Tours  is  principally 
composed  of  a  succession  of  rich  pasture  lands,  which 
are  traversed  and  fertilized  by  the  Cher,  the  Creuse,  the  Vienne, 
the  Claine,  the  Indre,  and  other  tributaries  of  the  River  Loire. 
Here  and  there  the  ground  swells  into  picturesque  eminences 
and  occasionally  a  belt  of  forest  land,  a  brown  heath,  or  a  clus- 
tering series  of  vineyards  breaks  the  monontony  of  the  wide- 
spread meadows  ;  but  the  general  character  of  the  land  is  that  of 
a  grassy  plain,  and  it  seems  naturally  adapted  for  the  evolutions 
of  numerous  armies,  especially  of  those  vast  bodies  of  cavalry 
which  principally  decided  the  fate  of  nations  during  thf^  cen- 
turies that  followed  the  downfall  of  Rome,  and  preceded  the 
consolidation  of  the  modern  European  powers. 

This  region  has  been  signalized  by  more  than  one  memorable 
conflict ;  but  it  is  principally  interesting  to  the  historian  by  hav- 
ing been  the  scene  of  the  great  victory  won  by  Charles  Martel 
over  the  Saracens,  a.d.  732,  which  gave  a  decisive  check  to  the 
career  of  Arab  conquest  in  Western  Europe,  rescued  Christen- 
dom from  Islam,  preserved  the  relics  of  ancient  and  the  germs 
of  modern  civilization,  and  re-established  the  old  superiority 
of  the  Indo-European  over  the  Semitic  family  of  mankind. 

Sismondi  and  Michelet  have  underrated  the  enduring  interest 
of  this  great  Appeal  of  Battle  between  the  champions  of  the 
Crescent  and  the  Cross.  But,  if  French  writers  have  slighted 
the  exploits  of  their  national  hero,  the  Saracenic  trophies  of 
Charles  Martel  have  had  full  justice  done  to  them  by  English 
and  German  historians.     Gibbon  devotes  several  pages  of  his 

157 


158  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

great  work*  to  the  narrative  of  the  battle  of  Tours,  and  to  the 
consideration  of  the  consequences  which  probably  would  have 
resulted  if  Abderrahman's  enterprise  had  not  been  crushed  by 
the  Prankish  chief.  Schlegelf  speaks  of  this  "  mighty  victory  " 
in  terms  of  fervent  gratitude,  and  tells  how  "  the  arm  of  Charles 
IMartel  saved  and  delivered  the  Christian  nations  of  the  West 
from  the  deadly  grasp  of  all-destroying  Islam  " ;  and  Ranke^ 
points  out,  as  "  one  of  the  most  important  epochs  in  the  history 
of  the  world,  the  commencement  of  the  eighth  century,  when 
on  the  one  side  Mohammedanism  threatened  to  overspread  Italy 
and  Gaul,  and  on  the  other  the  ancient  idolatry  of  Saxony  and 
Friesland  once  more  forced  its  way  across  the  Rhine.  In  this 
peril  of  Christian  institutions,  a  youthful  prince  of  Germanic 
race,  Karl  Martell,  arose  as  their  champion,  maintained  them 
with  all  the  energy  which  the  necessity  for  self-defence  calls 
forth,  and  finally  extended  them  into  new  regions." 

Arnold§  ranks  the  victory  of  Charles  Martel  even  higher 
than  the  victory  of  Arminius,  "  among  those  signal  deliverances 
which  have  affected  for  centuries  the  happiness  of  mankind." 
In  fact,  the  more  we  test  its  importance,  the  higher  we  shall  be 
led  to  estimate  it ;  and,  though  all  authentic  details  which  we 
possess  of  its  circumstances  and  its  heroes  are  but  meagre,  we 
can  trace  enough  of  its  general  character  to  make  us  watch  with 
deep  interest  this  encounter  between  the  rival  conquerors  of  the 
decaying  Roman  empire.  That  old  classic  world,  the  history 
of  which  occupies  so  large  a  portion  of  our  early  studies,  lay, 
in  the  eighth  century  of  our  era,  utterly  exanimate  and  over- 
thrown. On  the  north  the  German,  on  the  south  the  Arab, 
was  rending  away  its  provinces.  At  last  the  spoilers  encoun- 
tered one  another,  each  striving  for  the  full  master  of  the  prey. 
Their  conflict  brought  back  upon  the  memory  of  Gibbon  the 
old  Homeric  simile,  where  the  strife  of  Hector  and  Patroclus 
over  the  dead  body  of  Cebriones  is  compared  to  the  combat  of 
two  lions,  that  in  their  hate  and  hunger  fight  together  on  the 

*  Vol.  vii.,  p.  17  et  seq.  Gibbon's  sneering  remark,  that  if  the  Saracen 
conquests  had  not  then  been  checked,  "  perhaps  the  interpretation  of  the 
Koran  would  now  be  taught  in  the  schools  of  Oxford,  and  her  pulpits 
might  demonstrate  to  a  circumcised  people  the  sanctity  and  truth  of  the 
revelation  of  Mohammed,"  has  almost  an  air  of  regret. 

t  "  Philosophy  of  History,"  p.  331. 

t  "  History  of  the  Reformation  in  Germany,"  vol.  i.,  p.  5. 

§  "  History  of  the  later  Roman  Commonwealth,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  317. 


THE    BATTLE    OF   TOURS 


159 


mountain  tops  over  the  carcass  of  a  slaughtered  stag";  and  the 
reluctant  yielding  of  the  Saracen  power  to  the  superior  might 
of  the  Northern  warriors  might  not  inaptly  recall  those  other 
lines  of  the  same  book  of  the  Iliad,  where  the  downfall  of 
Patroclus  beneath  Hector  is  likened  to  the  forced  yielding 
of  the  panting  and  exhausted  wild  boar,  that  had  long  and 
furiously  fought  with  a  superior  beast  of  prey  for  the  pos- 
session of  the  scanty  fountain  among  the  rocks  at  which  each 
burned  to  drink.* 

Although  three  centuries  had  passed  away  since  the  Ger- 
manic conquerors  of  Rome  had  crossed  the  Rhine,  never  to 
repass  that  frontier  stream,  no  settled  system  of  institutions  or 
government,  no  amalgamation  of  the  various  races  into  our 
people,  no  uniformity  of  language  or  habits  had  been  established 
in  the  country  at  the  time  when  Charles  Martel  was  called  to 
repel  the  menacing  tide  of  Saracenic  invasion  from  the  south. 
Gaul  was  not  yet  France.  In  that,  as  in  other  provinces  of 
the  Roman  empire  of  the  West,  the  dominion  of  the  Caesars 
had  been  shattered  as  early  as  the  fifth  century,  and  barbaric 
kingdoms  and  principalities  had  promptly  arisen  on  the  ruins 
of  the  Roman  power.  But  few  of  these  had  any  permanency, 
and  none  of  them  consolidated  the  rest,  or  any  considerable 
number  of  the  rest,  into  one  coherent  and  organized  civil 
and  political  society.  The  great  bulk  of  the  population  still 
consisted  of  the  conquered  provincials,  that  is  to  say,  of  Ro- 
manized Celts,  of  a  Gallic  race  which  had  long  been  under 
the  dominion  of  the  Caesars,  and  had  acquired,  together  with 
no  slight  infusion  of  Roman  blood,  the  language,  the  literature, 
the  laws,  and  the  civilization  of  Latium.  Among  these,  and 
dominant  over  them,  roved  or  dwelt  the  German  victors  ;  some 
retaining  nearly  all  the  rude  independence  of  their  primitive 
national  character,  others  softened  and  disciplined  by  the  aspect 
and  contact  of  the  manners  and  institutions  of  civilized  life  ;  for 
it  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  Roman  empire  in  the  West 

'At'  opeos  Kopv(p^ai  irepl  KTa/LLfvris  f\d(poio, 
"A/xcpd)  veivdoyre,  fitya  (ppoveopre  /idxecr^ov. 

«         -    ,    .  .  .  -Z^"'.  756. 

'Xl$  S"  OTf  itvv  aKauavra  Xewv  ifii'f]<TaTO  x^-Pf-Vi 
Tci  T  opfos  Kopv<p?i(Ti  fxiya  ippoveovTe  ndxeff^ov, 
TliSaKos  afx<p'  oKiyrfs  '    i^fXoval  Se  irtfueu  &u(p(u  ' 
IloWii  Se  T  aff^fiaivovTa  \fciip  iSiifxacrare  fiifi(pip. 

— //.,  it'.  823. 


i6o  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

was  not  crushed  by  any  sudden  avalanche  of  barbaric  invasion. 
The  German  conquerors  came  across  the  Rhine,  not  in  enor- 
mous hosts,  but  in  bands  of  a  few  thousand  warriors  at  a  time. 
The  conquest  of  a  province  was  the  result  of  an  infinite  series 
of  partial  local  invasions,  carried  on  by  little  armies  of  this 
description.  The  victorious  warriors  either  retired  with  their 
booty,  or  fixed  themselves  in  the  invaded  district,  taking  care  to 
keep  sufficiently  concentrated  for  military  purposes,  and  ever 
ready  for  some  fresh  foray,  either  against  a  rival  Teutonic  band, 
or  some  hitherto  unassailed  city  of  the  provincials.  Gradually, 
however,  the  conquerors  acquired  a  desire  for  permanent  landed 
possessions.  They  lost  somewhat  of  the  restless  thirst  for  nov- 
elty and  adventure  which  had  first  made  them  throng  beneath 
the  banner  of  the  boldest  captains  of  their  tribe,  and  leave  their 
native  forests  for  a  roving  military  life  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Rhine.  They  were  converted  to  the  Christian  faith,  and  gave 
up  with  their  old  creed  much  of  the  coarse  ferocity  which  must 
have  been  fostered  in  the  spirits  of  the  ancient  warriors  of  the 
North  by  a  mythology  which  promised,  as  the  reward  of  the 
brave  on  earth,  an  eternal  cycle  of  fighting  and  drunkenness  in 
heaven. 

But,  although  their  conversion  and  other  civilizing  influ- 
ences operated  powerfully  upon  the  Germans  in  Gaul,  and  al- 
though the  Franks  (who  were  originally  a  confederation  of  the 
Teutonic  tribes  that  dwelt  between  the  Rhine,  the  Maine,  and 
the  Weser)  established  a  decisive  superiority  over  the  other 
conquerors  of  the  province,  as  well  as  over  the  conquered  pro- 
vincials, the  country  long  remained  a  chaos  of  uncombined  and 
shifting  elements.  The  early  princes  of  the  Merovingian 
dynasty  were  generally  occupied  in  wars  against  other  princes 
of  their  house,  occasioned  by  the  frequent  subdivisions  of  the 
Frank  monarchy ;  and  the  ablest  and  best  of  them  had  found 
all  their  energies  tasked  to  the  utmost  to  defend  the  barrier  of 
the  Rhine  against  the  pagan  Germans  who  strove  to  pass  that 
river  and  gather  their  share  of  the  spoils  of  the  empire. 

The  conquests  which  the  Saracens  effected  over  the  southern 
and  eastern  provinces  of  Rome  were  far  more  rapid  than  those 
achieved  by  the  Germans  in  the  north,  and  the  new  organiza- 
tions of  society  which  the  Moslems  introduced  were  summarily 
and  uniformly  enforced.  Exactly  a  century  passed  between  the 
death  of  Mohammed  and  the  date  of  the  battle  of  Tours.     Dur- 


THE  BATTLE   OF   TOURS  i6i 

ing  that  century  the  followers  of  the  Prophet  had  torn  away  half 
the  Roman  empire;  and,  besides  their  conquests  over  Persia, 
the  Saracens  had  overrun  Syria,  Egypt,  Africa,  and  Spain,  in 
an  uncheckered  and  apparently  irresistible  career  of  victory. 
Nor,  at  the  commencement  of  the  eighth  century  of  our  era, 
was  the  Mohammedan  world  divided  against  itself,  as  it  subse- 
quently became.  All  these  vast  regions  obeyed  the  caliph ; 
throughout  them  all,  from  the  Pyrenees  to  the  Oxus,  the  name 
of  Mohammed  was  invoked  in  prayer,  and  the  Koran  revered 
as  the  book  of  the  law. 

It  was  under  one  of  their  ablest  and  most  renowned  com- 
manders, with  a  veteran  army,  and  with  every  apparent  advan- 
tage of  time,  place,  and  circumstance,  that  the  Arabs  made  their 
great  effort  at  the  conquest  of  Europe  north  of  the  Pyrenees. 
The  victorious  Moslem  soldiery  in  Spain, 

"  A  countless  multitude; 
Syrian,  Moor,  Saracen,  Greek  renegade, 
Persian,  and  Copt,  and  Tartar,  in  one  bond 
Of  erring  faith  conjoined — strong  in  the  youth 
And  heat  of  zeal — a  dreadful  brotherhood," 

were  eager  for  the  plunder  of  more  Christian  cities  and  shrines, 
and  full  of  fanatic  confidence  in  the  invincibility  of  their  arms. 

"  Nor  were  the  chiefs 
Of  victory  less  assured,  by  long  success 
Elate,  and  proud  of  that  o'erwhelming  strength 
Which,  surely  they  believed,  as  it  had  rolled 
Thus  far  uncheck'd,  would  roll  victorious  on, 
Till,  like  the  Orient,  the  subjected  West 
Should  bow  in  reverence  at  Mohammed's  name; 
And  pilgrims  from  remotest  Arctic  shores 
Tread  with  religious  feet  the  burning  sands 
Of  Araby  and  Mecca's  stony  soil." 

— Southey's  Roderick. 

It  is  not  only  by  the  modern  Christian  poet,  but  by  the  old 
Arabian  chroniclers  also,  that  these  feelings  of  ambition  and 
arrogance  are  attributed  to  the  Moslems  who  had  overthrown 
the  Visigoth  power  in  Spain,  And  their  eager  expectations  of 
new  wars  were  excited  to  the  utmost  on  the  reappointment  by 
the  caliph  of  Abderrahman  Ibn  Abdillah  Alghafeki  to  the  gov- 
ernment of  that  country,  a.d.  729,  which  restored  them  a  gen- 
eral who  had  signalized  his  skill  and  prowess  during  the  con- 
II 


l62  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

quests  of  Africa  and  Spain,  whose  ready  valor  and  generosity 
had  made  him  the  idol  of  the  troops,  who  had  already  been  en- 
gaged in  several  expeditions  into  Gaul,  so  as  to  be  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  national  character  and  tactics  of  the  Franks, 
and  who  was  known  to  thirst,  like  a  good  Moslem,  for  revenge 
for  the  slaughter  of  some  detachments  of  the  True  Believers, 
which  had  been  cut  off  on  the  north  of  the  Pyrenees. 

In  addition  to  his  cardinal  military  virtues,  Abderrahman  is 
described  by  the  Arab  writers  as  a  model  of  integrity  and  jus- 
tice. The  first  two  years  of  his  second  administration  in  Spain 
were  occupied  in  severe  reforms  of  the  abuses  which  under  his 
predecessors  had  crept  into  the  system  of  government,  and  in 
extensive  preparations  for  his  intended  conquest  in  Gaul.  Be- 
sides the  troops  which  he  collected  from  his  province,  he  ob- 
tained from  Africa  a  large  body  of  chosen  Berber  cavalry, 
ofificered  by  Arabs  of  proved  skill  and  valor ;  and  in  the  summer 
of  732,  he  crossed  the  Pyrenees  at  the  head  of  an  army  which 
some  Arab  writers  rate  at  eighty  thousand  strong,  while  some 
of  the  Christian  chroniclers  swell  its  numbers  to  many  hundreds 
of  thousands  more.  Probably  the  Arab  account  diminishes, 
but  of  the  two  keeps  nearer  to  the  truth.  It  was  from  this 
formidable  host,  after  Eudes,  the  Count  of  Aquitaine,  had 
vainly  striven  to  check  it,  after  many  strong  cities  had  fallen 
before  it,  and  half  the  land  had  been  overrun,  that  Gaul  and 
Christendom  were  at  last  rescued  by  the  strong  arm  of  Prince 
Charles,  who  acquired  a  surname,*  like  that  of  the  war-god  of 
his  forefathers'  creed,  from  the  might  with  which  he  broke  and 
shattered  his  enemies  in  the  battle. 

The  Merovingian  kings  had  sunk  into  absolute  insignifi- 
cance, and  had  become  mere  puppets  of  royalty  before  the 
eighth  century.  Charles  Martel,  like  his  father,  Pepin  Heristal, 
was  Duke  of  the  Austrasian  Franks,  the  bravest  and  most  thor- 
oughly Germanic  part  of  the  nation,  and  exercised,  in  the  name 
of  the  titular  king,  what  little  paramount  authority  the  turbu- 
lent minor  rulers  of  districts  and  towns  could  be  persuaded  or 
compelled  to  acknowledge.  Engaged  with  his  national  com- 
petitors in  perpetual  conflicts  for  power,  and  in  more  serious 
struggles  for  safety  against  the  fierce  tribes  of  the  unconverted 
Frisians,  Bavarians,  Saxons,  and  Thuringians,  who  at  that 

*  Martel — The  Hammer.  See  the  Scandinavian  Sagas  for  an  account 
of  the  favorite  weapon  of  Thor. 


THE   BATTLE   OF   TOURS  163 

epoch  assailed  with  peculiar  ferocity  the  Christianized  Germans 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine,  Charles  Martel  added  experi- 
enced skill  to  his  natural  courage,  and  he  had  also  formed  a 
militia  of  veterans  among  the  Franks.  Hallam  has  thrown 
out  a  doubt  whether,  in  our  admiration  of  his  victory  at  Tours, 
we  do  not  judge  a  little  too  much  by  the  event,  and  whether 
there  was  not  rashness  in  his  risking  the  fate  of  France  on  the 
result  of  a  general  battle  with  the  invaders.  But  when  we 
remember  that  Charles  had  no  standing  army,  and  the  inde- 
pendent spirit  of  the  Frank  warriors  who  followed  his  standard, 
it  seems  most  probable  that  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  adopt  the 
cautious  policy  of  watching  the  invaders,  and  wearing  out  their 
strength  by  delay.  So  dreadful  and  so  widespread  were  the 
ravages  of  the  Saracenic  light  cavalry  throughout  Gaul,  that  it 
must  have  been  impossible  to  restrain  for  any  length  of  time 
the  indignant  ardor  of  the  Franks.  And,  even  if  Charles  could 
have  persuaded  his  men  to  look  tamely  on  while  the  Arabs 
stormed  more  towns  and  desolated  more  districts,  he  could  not 
have  kept  an  army  together  when  the  usual  period  of  a  military 
expedition  had  expired.  If,  indeed,  the  Arab  account  of  the 
disorganization  of  the  Moslem  forces  be  correct,  the  battle  was 
as  well  timed  on  the  part  of  Charles,  as  it  was,  beyond  all  ques- 
tion, well  fought. 

The  monkish  chroniclers,  from  whom  we  are  obliged  to  glean 
a  narrative  of  this  memorable  campaign,  bear  full  evidence  to 
the  terror  which  the  Saracen  invasion  inspired,  and  to  the  agony 
of  that  great  struggle.  The  Saracens,  say  they,  and  their  king, 
who  was  called  Abdirames,  came  out  of  Spain,  with  all  their 
wives,  and  their  children,  and  their  substance,  in  such  great 
multitudes  that  no  man  could  reckon  or  estimate  them.  They 
brought  with  them  all  their  armor,  and  whatever  they  had,  as 
if  they  were  thenceforth  always  to  dwell  in  France.* 

"  Then  Abderrahman,  seeing  the  land  filled  with  the  multi- 
tude of  his  army,  pierces  through  the  mountains,  tramples  over 
rough  and  level  ground,  plunders  far  into  the  country  of  the 
Franks,  and  smites  all  with  the  sword,  insomuch  that  when 
Eudo  came  to  battle  with  him  at  the  River  Garonne,  and  fled 

*  "  Lors  issirent  d'Espaigne  li  Sarrazins,  et  un  leur  Roi  qui  avoit  nom 
Abdirames,  et  ont  leur  fames  et  enfans  et  toute  leur  substance  en  si 
grand  plente  que  nus  ne  le  prevoit  nombrer  ne  estimer :  tout  leur  harnois 
et  quanques  il  avoient  amenement  avec  entz,  aussi  comme  si  ils  deussent 
toujours  mes  habiter  en  France." 


i64  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

before  him,  God  alone  knows  the  number  of  the  slain.  Then 
Abderrahman  pursued  after  Count  Eudo,  and,  while  he  strives 
to  spoil  and  burn  the  holy  shrine  at  Tours,  he  encounters  the 
chief  of  the  Austrasian  Franks,  Charles,  a  man  of  war  from  his 
youth  up,  to  whom  Eudo  had  sent  warning.  There  for  nearly 
seven  days  they  strive  intensely,  and  at  last  they  set  themselves 
in  battle  array,  and  the  nations  of  the  North  standing  firm  as  a 
wall,  and  impenetrable  as  a  zone  of  ice,  utterly  slay  the  Arabs 
with  the  edge  of  the  sword."  * 

The  European  writers  all  concur  in  speaking  of  the  fall  of 
Abderrahman  as  one  of  the  principal  causes  of  the  defeat  of  the 
Arabs ;  who,  according  to  one  writer,  after  finding  that  their 
leader  was  slain,  dispersed  in  the  night,  to  the  agreeable  surprise 
of  the  Christians,  who  expected  the  next  morning  to  see  them 
issue  from  their  tents  and  renew  the  combat.  One  monkish 
chronicler  puts  the  loss  of  the  Arabs  at  375,000  men,  while  he 
says  that  only  1,007  Christians  fell ;  a  disparity  of  loss  which  he 
feels  bound  to  account  for  by  a  special  interposition  of  Provi- 
dence. I  have  translated  above  some  of  the  most  spirited 
passages  of  these  writers;  but  it  is  impossible  to  collect  from 
them  anything  like  a  full  or  authentic  description  of  the  great 
battle  itself,  or  of  the  operations  which  preceded  and  followed  it. 
Though,  however,  we  may  have  cause  to  regret  the  meagre- 
ness  and  doubtful  character  of  these  narratives,  we  have  the 
great  advantage  of  being  able  to  compare  the  accounts  given 
of  Abderrahman's  expedition  by  the  national  writers  of  each 
side.  This  is  a  benefit  which  the  inquirer  into  antiquity  so 
seldom  can  obtain,  that  the  fact  of  possessing  it,  in  the  case  of 
the  battle  of  Tours,  makes  us  think  the  historical  testimony  re- 
specting that  great  event  more  certain  and  satisfactory  than  is 
the  case  in  many  other  instances,  where  we  possess  abundant 
details  respecting  military  exploits,  but  where  those  details 
come  to  us  from  the  annalist  of  one  nation  only,  and  where  we 
have,  consequently,  no  safeguard  against  the  exaggerations, 
the  distortions,  and  the  fictions  which  national  vanity  has  so 
often  put  forth  in  the  garb  and  under  the  title  of  history.  The 
Arabian  writers  who  recorded  the  conquests  and  wars  of  their 
countrymen  in  Spain  have  narrated  also  the  expedition  into 
Gaul  of  their  great  emir,  and  his  defeat  and  death  near  Tours,  in 

*  Tunc  Abdirrahman.  multitudine  sui  excrcitus  repletam  prospicens 
terram,  &c. — Scri[>t.  Gest.  Franc,  p.  785. 


THE   BATTLE   OF   TOURS  165 

battle  with  the  host  of  the  Franks  under  King  Caldus,  the  name 
into  which  they  metamorphose  Charles  Martel.* 

They  tell  us  how  there  was  war  between  the  count  of  the 
Prankish  frontier  and  the  Moslems,  and  how  the  count  gath- 
ered together  all  his  people,  and  fought  for  a  time  with  doubtful 
success.  "  But,"  say  the  Arabian  chroniclers,  "  Abderrahman 
drove  them  back ;  and  the  men  of  Abderrahman  were  puffed 
up  in  spirit  by  their  repeated  successes,  and  they  were  full  of 
trust  in  the  valor  and  the  practice  in  war  of  their  emir.  So  the 
Moslems  smote  their  enemies,  and  passed  the  River  Garonne, 
and  laid  waste  the  country,  and  took  captives  without  number. 
And  that  army  went  through  all  places  like  a  desolating  storm. 
Prosperity  made  these  warriors  insatiable.  At  the  passage  of 
the  river,  Abderrahman  overthrew  the  count,  and  the  count  re- 
tired into  his  stronghold,  but  the  Moslems  fought  against  it, 
and  entered  it  by  force  and  slew  the  count ;  for  everything  gave 
way  to  their  cimeters,  which  were  the  robbers  of  lives.  All  the 
nations  of  the  Pranks  trembled  at  that  terrible  army,  and  they 
betook  them  to  their  king  Caldus,  and  told  him  of  the  havoc 
made  by  the  Moslem  horsemen,  and  how  they  rode  at  their  will 
through  all  the  land  of  Narbonne,  Toulouse,  and  Bordeaux, 
and  they  told  the  king  of  the  death  of  their  count.  Then  the 
king  bade  them  be  of  good  cheer,  and  offered  to  aid  them.  And 
in  the  114th  yearf  he  mounted  his  horse,  and  he  took  with  him 
a  host  that  could  not  be  numbered,  and  went  against  the  Mos- 
lems. And  he  came  upon  them  at  the  great  city  of  Tours.  And 
Abderrahman  and  other  prudent  cavaliers  saw  the  disorder  of 
the  Moslem  troops,  who  were  loaded  with  spoil ;  but  they  did 
not  venture  to  displease  the  soldiers  by  ordering  them  to  aban- 
don everything  except  their  arms  and  war-horses.  And  Ab- 
derrahman trusted  in  the  valor  of  his  soldiers,  and  in  the  good 
fortune  which  had  ever  attended  him.  But  (the  Arab  writer 
remarks)  such  defect  of  discipline  always  is  fatal  to  armies.  So 
Abderrahman  and  his  host  attacked  Tours  to  gain  still  more 
spoil,  and  they  fought  against  it  so  fiercely  that  they  stormed 

*  The  Arabian  chronicles  were  compiled  and  translated  into  Spanish 
by  Don  Jose  Antonio  Conde,  in  his  "  Historia  de  la  Dominacion  de  los 
Arabos  en  Espana,"  published  at  Madrid  in  1820.  Conde's  plan,  which  I 
have  endeavored  to  follow,  was  to  preserve  both  the  style  and  spirit  of  his 
Oriental  authorities,  so  that  we  find  in  his  pages  a  genuine  Saracenic 
narrative  of  the  wars  in  Western  Europe  between  the  Mohammedans 
and  the  Christians. 

t  Of  the  Hegira. 


,66  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

the  city  almost  before  the  eyes  of  the  army  that  came  to  save  it ; 
and  the  fury  and  the  cruehy  of  the  Moslems  towards  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  city  were  like  the  fury  and  cruelty  of  raging  tigers. 
It  was  manifest,"  adds  the  Arab,  "  that  God's  chastisement  was 
sure  to  follow  such  excesses;  and  Fortune  thereupon  turned 
her  back  upon  the  Moslems. 

"  Near  the  River  Owar,f  the  two  great  hosts  of  the  two  lan- 
guages and  the  two  creeds  were  set  in  array  against  each  other. 
The  hearts  of  Abdefrahman,  his  captains,  and  his  men,  were 
filled  with  wrath  and  pride,  and  they  were  the  first  to  begin  the 
fight.  The  Moslem  horsemen  dashed  fierce  and  frequent  for- 
ward against  the  battalions  of  the  Franks,  who  resisted  man- 
fully, and  many  fell  dead  on  either  side,  until  the  going  down  of 
the  sun.  Night  parted  the  two  armies ;  but  in  the  gray  of  the 
morning  the  Moslems  returned  to  the  battle.  Their  cavaliers 
had  soon  hewn  their  way  into  the  centre  of  the  Christian  host. 
But  many  of  the  Moslems  were  fearful  for  the  safety  of  the  spoil 
which  they  had  stored  in  their  tents,  and  a  false  cry  arose  in 
their  ranks  that  some  of  the  enemy  were  plundering  the  camp  ; 
whereupon  several  squadrons  of  the  Moslem  horsemen  rode  off 
to  protect  their  tents.  But  it  seemed  as  if  they  fled  ;  and  all  the 
host  was  troubled.  And,  while  Abderrahman  strove  to  check 
their  tumult,  and  to  lead  them  back  to  battle,  the  warriors  of 
the  Franks  came  around  him,  and  he  was  pierced  through  with 
many  spears,  so  that  he  died.  Then  all  the  host  fled  before  the 
enemy  and  many  died  in  the  flight.  This  deadly  defeat  of  the 
Moslems,  and  the  loss  of  the  great  leader  and  good  cavalier, 
Abderrahman,  took  place  in  the  hundred  and  fifteenth  year." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  expect  from  an  adversary  a  more  ex- 
plicit confession  of  having  been  thoroughly  vanquished  than 
the  Arabs  here  accord  to  the  Europeans.  The  points  on  which 
their  narrative  differs  from  those  of  the  Christians — as  to  how 
many  days  the  conflict  lasted,  whether  the  assailed  city  was 
actually  rescued  or  not,  and  the  like — are  of  little  moment  com- 
pared with  the  admitted  great  fact  that  there  was  a  decisive  trial 
of  strength  between  Frank  and  Saracen,  in  which  the  former 
conquered.  The  enduring  importance  of  the  battle  of  Tours  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Moslems  is  attested  not  only  by  the  expressions 
of  "  the  deadly  battle  "  and  "  the  disgraceful  overthrow  "  which 
their  writers  constantly  employ  when  referring  to  it,  but  also  by 
t  Probably  the  Loire. 


THE    BATTLE   OF    TOURS  167 

the  fact  that  no  more  serious  attempts  at  conquest  beyond  the 
Pyrenees  were  made  by  the  Saracens.  Charles  Martel,  and  his 
son  and  grandson,  were  left  at  leisure  to  consolidate  and  extend 
their  power.  The  new  Christian  Roman  empire  of  the  West, 
which  the  genius  of  Charlemagne  founded,  and  throughout 
which  his  iron  will  imposed  peace  on  the  old  anarchy  of  creeds 
and  races,  did  not  indeed  retain  its  integrity  after  its  great 
ruler's  death.  Fresh  troubles  came  over  Europe  ;  but  Christen- 
dom, though  disunited,  was  safe.  The  progress  of  civilization, 
and  the  development  of  the  nationalities  and  governments  of 
modern  Europe,  from  that  time  forth  went  forward  in  not  unin- 
terrupted, but  ultimately  certain  career. 


Syivopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Tours^  a.d.  732, 
AND  THE  Battle  of  Hastings,  a.d.  1066. 

A.D.  768 — 814.  Reign  of  Charlemagne.  This  monarch  has 
justly  been  termed  the  principal  regenerator  of  Western  Europe, 
after  the  destruction  of  the  Roman  empire.  The  early  death  of 
his  brother  Carloman  left  him  sole  master  of  the  dominion  of  the 
Franks,  which,  by  a  succession  of  victorious  wars,  he  enlarged 
into  the  new  empire  of  the  West.  He  conquered  the  Lombards, 
and  re-established  the  pope  at  Rome,  who,  in  return,  acknowl- 
edged Charles  as  suzerain  of  Italy.  And  in  the  year  800,  Leo 
HL,  in  the  name  of  the  Roman  people,  solemnly  crowned 
Charlemagne  at  Rome  as  emperor  of  the  Roman  empire  of  the 
West.  In  Spain,  Charlemagne  ruled  the  country  between  the 
Pyrenees  and  the  Ebro ;  but  his  most  important  conquests  were 
effected  on  the  eastern  side  of  his  original  kingdom,  over  the 
Sclavonians  of  Bohemia,  the  Avars  of  Pannonia,  and  over  the 
previously  uncivilized  German  tribes,  who  had  remained  in 
their  fatherland.  The  old  Saxons  were  his  most  obstinate  an- 
tagonists, and  his  wars  with  them  lasted  for  thirty  years.  Under 
him  the  greater  part  of  Germany  was  compulsorily  civilized 
and  converted  from  paganism  to  Christianity.  His  empire  ex- 
tended eastward  as  far  as  the  Elbe,  the  Saale,  the  Bohemian 
Mountains,  and  a  line  drawn  from  thence  crossing  the  Danube 
above  Vienna,  and  prolonged  to  the  Gulf  of  Istria.* 

Throughout  this  vast  assemblage  of  provinces,  Charlemagne 

*  Hallam's  "  Middle  Ages." 


i68  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

established  an  organized  and  firm  government.  But  it  is  not 
as  a  mere  conqueror  that  he  demands  admiration.  "  In  a  Ufa 
restlessly  active,  we  see  him  reforming  the  coinage  and  estab- 
lishing the  legal  divisions  of  money ;  gathering  about  him  the 
learned  of  every  country ;  founding  schools  and  collecting  libra- 
ries ;  interfering,  with  the  air  of  a  king,  in  religious  controver- 
sies ;  attempting,  for  the  sake  of  commerce,  the  magnificent  en- 
terprise of  uniting  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube,  and  meditating 
to  mould  the  discordant  code  of  Roman  and  barbarian  laws  into 
a  uniform  system."* 

814 — 888.  Repeated  partitions  of  the  empire  and  civil  wars 
between  Charlemagne's  descendants.  Ultimately  the  kingdom 
of  France  is  finally  separated  from  Germany  and  Italy.  In  962, 
Otho  the  Great  of  Germany  revives  the  imperial  dignity. 

827.  Egbert,  king  of  Wessex,  acquires  the  supremacy  over 
the  other  Anglo-Saxon  kingdoms. 

832.  The  first  Danish  squadron  attacks  part  of  the  English 
coast.  The  Danes,  or  Northmen,  had  begun  their  ravages  in 
France  a  few  years  earlier.  For  two  centuries  Scandinavia 
sends  out  fleet  after  fieet  of  sea  rovers,  who  desolate  all  the  west- 
ern kingdoms  of  Europe  and  in  many  cases  efifect  permanent 
conquests. 

871 — 900.  Reign  of  Alfred  in  England.  After  a  long  and 
varied  struggle,  he  rescues  England  from  the  Danish  invaders. 

911.  The  French  king  cedes  Neustria  to  Hrolf  the  North- 
man. Hrolf  (or  Duke  Rollo,  as  he  thenceforth  was  termed) 
and  his  army  of  Scandinavian  warriors,  become  the  ruling  class 
of  the  population  of  the  province,  which  is  called,  after  them, 
Normandy. 

1016.  Four  knights  from  Normandy,  who  had  been  on  a  pil- 
grimage to  the  Holy  Land,  while  returning  through  Italy,  head 
the  people  of  Salerno  in  repelling  an  attack  of  a  band  of  Saracen 
corsairs.  In  the  next  year  many  adventurers  from  Normandy 
settle  in  Italy,  where  they  conquer  Apulia  (1040),  and  after- 
wards (1060)  Sicily. 

1017.  Canute,  king  of  Denmark,  becomes  king  of  England. 
On  the  death  of  the  last  of  his  sons,  in  1041,  the  Saxon  line  is 
restored,  and  Edward  the  Confessor  (who  had  been  bred  in  the 
court  of  the  Duke  of  Normandy)  is  called  by  the  English  to  the 

*  Hallam,  ut  supra. 


THE   BATTLE  OF   TOURS  169 

throne  of  this  island,  as  the  representative  of  the  house  of 
Cedric. 

1035.  Duke  Robert  of  Normandy  dies  on  his  return  from  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land,  and  his  son  William  (afterward 
the  conqueror  of  England)  succeeds  to  the  dukedom  of  Nor- 
mandy. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   BATTLE   OF   HASTINGS,   A.D.    1066. 

"  Eis  vos  la  Bataille  assemblee, 
Dune  encore  est  grant  renomee." 

— Roman  de  Ron,  1.  3183. 

ARLETTA'S  pretty  feet  twinkling  in  the  brook  made  her 
the  mother  of  WilHam  the  Conqueror.  Had  she  not 
thus  fascinated  Duke  Robert  the  Liberal  of  Normandy, 
Harold  would  not  have  fallen  at  Hastings,  no  Anglo-Norman 
dynasty  could  have  arisen,  no  British  empire.  The  reflection 
is  Sir  Francis  Palgrave's  ;*  and  it  is  emphatically  true.  If  any 
one  should  write  a  history  of  "  Decisive  loves  that  have  ma- 
terially influenced  the  drama  of  the  world  in  all  its  subsequent 
scenes,"  the  daughter  of  the  tanner  of  Falaise  would  deserve  a 
conspicuous  place  in  his  pages.  But  it  is  her  son,  the  victor  of 
Hastings,  who  is  now  the  object  of  our  attention ;  and  no  one 
who  appreciates  the  influence  of  England  and  her  empire  upon 
the  destinies  of  the  world  will  ever  rank  that  victory  as  one  of 
secondary  importance. 

It  is  true  that  in  the  last  century  some  writers  of  eminence 
on  our  history  and  laws  mentioned  the  Norman  Conquest  in 
terms  from  which  it  might  be  supposed  that  the  battle  of  Has- 
tings led  to  little  more  than  the  substitution  of  one  royal  family 
on  the  throne  of  this  country,  and  to  the  garbling  and  changing 
of  some  of  our  laws  through  the  "  cunning  of  the  Norman  law- 
yers." But,  at  least  since  the  appearance  of  the  work  of  Au- 
gustin  Thierry  on  the  Norman  Conquest,  these  forensic  fallacies 
have  been  exploded.  Thierry  made  his  readers  keenly  appre- 
ciate the  magnitude  of  that  political  and  social  catastrophe. 
He  depicted  in  vivid  colors  the  atrocious  cruelties  of  the  con- 
querors, and  the  sweeping  and  enduring  innovations  that  they 
wrought,  involving  the  overthrow  of  the  ancient  constitution, 

♦  "  History  of  Normandy  and  England,"  vol.  i.,  p.  526. 
170 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  171 

as  well  as  of  the  last  of  the  Saxon  kings.  In  his  pages  we  see 
new  tribunals  and  tenures  superseding  the  old  ones,  new  di- 
visions of  race  and  class  introduced,  whole  districts  devastated 
to  gratify  the  vengeance  or  the  caprice  of  the  new  tyrant,  the 
greater  part  of  the  lands  of  the  English  confiscated  and  divided 
among  aliens,  the  very  name  of  Englishmen  turned  into  a  re- 
proach, the  English  language  rejected  as  servile  and  barbarous, 
and  all  the  high  places  in  church  and  state  for  upward  of  a  cen- 
tury filled  exclusively  by  men  of  foreign  race. 

No  less  true  than  eloquent  is  Thierry's  summing  up  of  the 
social  effects  of  the  Norman  Conquest  on  the  generation  that 
witnessed  it,  and  on  many  of  their  successors.  He  tells  his 
reader  that,  "  if  he  would  form  a  just  idea  of  England  conquered 
by  William  of  Normandy,  he  must  figure  to  himself — not  a 
mere  change  of  political  rule — not  the  triumph  of  one  candidate 
over  another  candidate — of  the  man  of  one  party  over  the  man 
of  another  party,  but  the  intrusion  of  one  people  into  the  bosom 
of  another  people — the  violent  placing  of  one  society  over  an- 
other society  which  it  came  to  destroy,  and  the  scattered  frag- 
ments of  which  it  retained  only  as  personal  property,  or  (to  use 
the  words  of  an  old  act)  as  '  the  clothing  of  the  soil ' ;  he  must 
not  picture  to  himself,  on  the  one  hand,  William  a  king  and  a 
despot — on  the  other,  subjects  of  William's,  high  and  low,  rich 
and  poor,  all  inhabiting  England,  and  consequently  all  Eng- 
lish ;  he  must  imagine  two  nations,  of  one  of  which  William  is  a 
member  and  the  chief — two  nations  which  (if  the  term  must  be 
used)  were  both  subject  to  William,  but  as  applied  to  which  the 
word  has  quite  different  senses,  meaning,  in  the  one  case, 
subordinate — in  the  other,  subjugated.  He  must  consider  that 
there  are  two  countries,  two  soils,  included  in  the  same  geo- 
graphical circumference — that  of  the  Normans,  rich  and  free ; 
that  of  the  Saxons,  poor  and  serving,  vexed  by  rent  and  toilage: 
the  former  full  of  spacious  mansions,  and  walled  and  moated 
castles  ;  the  latter  scattered  over  with  huts  and  straw,  and  ruined 
hovels  ;  that  peopled  with  the  happy  and  the  idle — with  men  of 
the  army  and  of  the  court — with  knights  and  nobles ;  this  with 
men  of  pain  and  labor — with  farmers  and  artisans :  on  the  one 
side,  luxury  and  insolence ;  on  the  other,  misery  and  envy — not 
the  envy  of  the  poor  at  the  sight  of  opulence  they  cannot  reach, 
but  the  envy  of  the  despoiled  when  in  presence  of  the  despoil- 
ers. 


172  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Perhaps  the  effect  of  Thierry's  work  has  been  to  cast  into  the 
shade  the  ultimate  good  effects  on  England  of  the  Norman  Con- 
quest. Yet  these  are  as  undeniable  as  are  the  miseries  which 
that  conquest  inflicted  on  our  Saxon  ancestors  from  the  time  of 
the  battle  of  Hastings  to  the  time  of  the  signing  of  the  Great 
Charter  at  Runnymede.  That  last  is  the  true  epoch  of  English 
nationality;  it  is  the  epoch  when  Anglo-Norman  and  Anglo- 
Saxon  ceased  to  keep  aloof  from  each  other — the  one  in  haughty 
scorn,  the  other  in  sullen  abhorrence ;  and  when  all  the  free  men 
of  the  land,  whether  barons,  knights,  yeomen,  or  burghers,  com- 
bined to  lay  the  foundations  of  English  freedom. 

Our  Norman  barons  were  the  chiefs  of  that  primary  constitu- 
tional movement ;  those  "  iron  barons,"  whom  Chatham  has  so 
nobly  eulogized.  This  alone  should  make  England  remember 
her  obligations  to  the  Norman  Conquest,  which  planted  far  and 
wide,  as  a  dominant  class  in  her  land,  a  martial  nobility  of  the 
bravest  and  most  energetic  race  that  ever  existed. 

It  may  sound  paradoxical,  but  it  is  in  reality  no  exaggeration 
to  say,  with  Guizot,*  that  England's  liberties  are  owing  to 
her  having  been  conquered  by  the  Normans.  It  is  true  that 
the  Saxon  institutions  were  the  primitive  cradle  of  English  lib- 
erty, but  by  their  own  intrinsic  force  they  could  never  have 
founded  the  enduring  free  English  Constitution.  It  was  the 
Conquest  that  infused  into  them  a  new  virtue,  and  the  political 
liberties  of  England  arose  from  the  situation  in  which  the 
Anglo-Saxon  and  the  Anglo-Norman  populations  and  laws 
found  themselves  placed  relatively  to  each  other  in  this  island. 
The  state  of  England  under  her  last  Anglo-Saxon  kings  closely 
resembled  the  state  of  France  under  the  last  Carlovingian  and 
the  first  Capetian  princes.  The  crown  was  feeble,  the  great 
nobles  were  strong  and  turbulent;  and  although  there  was 
more  national  unity  in  Saxon  England  than  in  France — al- 
though the  English  local  free  institutions  had  more  reality 
and  energy  than  was  the  case  with  anything  analogous  to  them 
on  the  Continent  in  the  eleventh  century — still  the  probability 
is  that  the  Saxon  system  of  polity,  if  left  to  itself,  would  have 
fallen  into  utter  confusion,  out  of  which  would  have  arisen, 
first,  an  aristocratic  hierarchy,  like  that  which  arose  in  France ; 
next,  an  absolute  monarchy ;  and,  finally,  a  series  of  anarchical 

*  "  Essais  sur  I'Histoire  de  France,"  p.  2T2,  et  seq. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  173 

revolutions,  such  as  we  now  behold  aroused,  but  not  among 
us.  * 

The  latest  conquerors  of  this  island  were  also  the  bravest  and 
the  best.  I  do  not  except  even  the  Romans.  And,  in  spite  of 
our  sympathies  with  Harold  and  Hereward,  and  our  abhorrence 
of  the  founder  of  the  New  Forest  and  the  desolator  of  York- 
shire, we  must  confess  the  superiority  of  the  Normans  to  the 
Anglo-Saxons  and  Anglo-Danes,  whom  they  met  here  in 
1066,  as  well  as  to  the  degenerate  Frank  noblesse,  and  the 
crushed  and  servile  Romanesque  provincials,  from  whom,  in 
912,  they  had  wrested  the  district  in  the  north  of  Gaul,  which 
still  bears  the  name  of  Normandy. 

It  was  not  merely  by  extreme  valor  and  ready  subordination 
to  military  discipline  that  the  Normans  were  pre-eminent 
among  all  the  conquering  races  of  the  Gothic  stock,  but  also 
by  an  instinctive  faculty  of  appreciating  and  adopting  the  supe- 
rior civilizations  which  they  encountered.  Thus  Duke  Rollo 
and  his  Scandinavian  warriors  readily  embraced  the  creed,  the 
language,  the  laws,  and  the  arts,  which  France,  in  those 
troubled  and  evil  times  with  which  the  Capetian  dynasty  com- 
menced, still  inherited  from  imperial  Rome  and  imperial 
Charlemagne.  "  They  adopted  the  customs,  the  duties,  the 
obedience  that  the  capitularies  of  emperors  and  kings  had  es- 
tablished ;  but  that  which  they  brought  to  the  application  of 
those  laws,  was  the  spirit  of  life,  the  spirit  of  liberty — the  habits 
also  of  military  subordination,  and  the  aptness  for  a  state  politic 
which  could  reconcile  the  security  of  all  with  the  independence 
of  each."  f  So,  also,  in  all  chivalric  feelings,  in  enthusiastic  re- 
ligious zeal,  in  almost  idolatrous  respect  to  females  of  gentle 
birth,  in  generous  fondness  for  the  nascent  poetry  of  the  time, 
in  a  keen  intellectual  relish  for  subtle  thought  and  disputation, 
in  a  taste  for  architectural  magnificence,  and  all  courtly  refine- 
ment and  pageantry.  The  Normans  were  the  Paladins  of  the 
world.  Their  brilliant  qualities  were  sullied  by  many  darker 
traits  of  pride,  of  merciless  cruelty,  and  of  brutal  contempt  for 
the  industry,  the  rights,  and  the  feelings  of  all  whom  they  con- 
sidered the  lower  classes  of  mankind. 

Their  gradual  blending  with  the  Saxons  softened  these  harsh 
and  evil  points  of  their  national  character,  and  in  return  they 

*  See  Guizot,  ut  supra. 

t  Sismondi,  "  Histoire  des  Frangais,"  vol.  Hi.,  p.  174. 


174 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


fired  the  duller  Saxon  mass  with  a  new  spirit  of  animation  and 
power.  As  Campbell  boldly  expressed  it,  "  They  high-mettled 
the  blood  of  our  veins''  Small  had  been  the  figure  which  Eng- 
land made  in  the  world  before  the  coming  over  of  the  Normans, 
and  without  them  she  never  would  have  emerged  from  insig- 
nificance. The  authority  of  Gibbon  may  be  taken  as  decisive 
when  he  pronounces  that  "  assuredly  England  was  a  gainer 
by  the  Conquest."  And  we  may  proudly  adopt  the  comment 
of  the  Frenchman  Rapin,  who,  writing  of  the  battle  of  Has- 
tings more  than  a  century  ago,  speaks  of  the  revolution  effected 
by  it  as  "  the  first  step  by  which  England  is  arrived  to  the  height 
of  grandeur  and  glory  we  behold  it  in  at  present."  * 

The  interest  of  this  eventful  struggle,  by  which  William  of 
Normandy  became  king  of  England,  is  materially  enhanced 
by  the  high  personal  character  of  the  competitors  for  our 
crown.  They  were  three  in  number.  One  was  a  foreign  prince 
from  the  north ;  one  was  a  foreign  prince  from  the  south ;  and 
one  was  a  native  hero  of  the  land.  Harald  Hardrada,  the 
strongest  and  the  most  chivalric  of  the  kings  of  Norway,  f 
was  the  first ;  Duke  William  of  Normandy  v/as  the  second ;  and 
the  Saxon  Harold,  the  son  of  Earl  Godwin,  was  the  third. 
Never  was  a  nobler  prize  sought  by  nobler  champions,  or 
striven  for  more  gallantly.  The  Saxon  triumphed  over  the 
Norwegian,  and  the  Norman  triumphed  over  the  Saxon ;  but 
Norse  valor  was  never  more  conspicuous  than  when  Harald 
Hardrada  and  his  host  fought  and  fell  at  Stamford  Bridge ;  nor 
did  Saxons  ever  face  their  foes  more  bravely  than  our  Harold 
and  his  men  on  the  fatal  day  of  Hastings. 

During  the  reign  of  King  Edward  the  Confessor  over  this 
land,  the  claims  of  the  Norwegian  king  to  our  crown  were 
little  thought  of;  and  though  Hardrada's  predecessor.  King 
Magnus  of  Norway,  had  on  one  occasion  asserted  that,  by 
virtue  of  a  compact  with  our  former  king,  Hardicanute,  he  was 
entitled  to  the  English  throne,  no  serious  attempt  had  been 
made  to  enforce  his  pretensions.  But  the  rivalry  of  the  Saxon 
Harold  and  the  Norman  William  was  foreseen  and  bewailed 
by  the  Confessor,  who  was  believed  to  have  predicted  on  his 
death-bed  the  calamities  that  were  impending  over  England. 

*  Rapin,  "  Hist.  England,"  p.  164.   See,  also,  on  this  point  Sharon  Tur- 
ner, vol.  iv.,  p.  72. 
t  See  in  Snorre  the  Saga  of  Haraldi  Hardrad. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  175 

Duke  William  was  King  Edward's  kinsman,  Harold  was  the 
head  of  the  most  powerful  noble  house,  next  to  the  royal  blood, 
in  England ;  and,  personally,  he  was  the  bravest  and  most 
popular  chieftain  in  the  land.  King  Edward  was  childless,  and 
the  nearest  collateral  heir  was  a  puny  unpromising  boy.  Eng- 
land had  suffered  too  severely,  during  royal  minorities,  to  make 
the  accession  of  Edgar  Atheling  desirable;  and  long  before 
King  Edward's  death,  Earl  Harold  was  the  destined  king  of  the 
nation's  choice,  though  the  favor  of  the  Confessor  was  believed 
to  lead  towards  the  Norman  duke. 

A  little  time  before  the  death  of  King  Edward,  Harold  was 
in  Normandy.  The  causes  of  the  voyage  of  the  Saxon  earl  to 
the  Continent  are  doubtful ;  but  the  fact  of  his  having  been,  in 
1065,  at  the  ducal  court,  and  in  the  power  of  his  rival,  is  indis- 
putable. William  made  skilful  and  unscrupulous  use  of  the 
opportunity.  Though  Harold  was  treated  with  outward  cour- 
tesy and  friendship,  he  was  made  fully  aware  that  his  liberty 
and  life  depended  on  his  compliance  with  the  duke's  requests. 
William  said  to  him,  in  apparent  confidence  and  cordiality, 
"  When  King  Edward  and  I  once  lived  like  brothers  under  the 
same  roof,  he  promised  that  if  ever  he  became  King  of  Eng- 
land, he  would  make  me  heir  to  his  throne.  Harold,  I  wish  that 
thou  wouldst  assist  me  to  realize  this  promise."  Harold  replied 
with  expressions  of  assent ;  and  further  agreed,  at  William's  re- 
quest, to  marry  William's  daughter,  Adela,  and  to  send  over 
his  own  sister  to  be  married  to  one  of  William's  barons.  The 
crafty  Norman  was  not  content  with  this  extorted  promise ;  he 
determined  to  bind  Harold  by  a  more  solemn  pledge,  the 
breach  of  which  would  be  a  weight  on  the  spirit  of  the  gallant 
Saxon,  and  a  discouragement  to  others  from  adopting  his 
cause.  Before  a  full  assembly  of  the  Norman  barons,  Harold 
was  required  to  do  homage  to  Duke  William,  as  the  heir 
apparent  of  the  English  crown.  Kneeling  down,  Harold  placed 
his  hands  between  those  of  the  duke,  and  repeated  the  solemn 
form  by  which  he  acknowledged  the  duke  as  his  lord,  and 
promised  to  him  fealty  and  true  service.  But  William  exacted 
more.  He  had  caused  all  the  bones  and  relics  of  saints,  that 
were  preserved  in  the  Norman  monasteries  and  churches,  to  be 
collected  in  a  chest,  which  was  placed  in  the  council-room, 
covered  over  with  a  cloth  of  gold.  On  the  chest  of  relics,  which 
were  thus  concealed,  was  laid  a  missal.  The  duke  then  solemn- 


176  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

ly  addressed  his  titular  guest  and  real  captive,  and  said  to  him, 
"  Harold,  I  require  thee,  before  this  noble  assembly,  to  confirm 
by  oath  the  promises  which  thou  hast  made  me,  to  assist  me 
in  obtaining  the  crown  of  England  after  King  Edward's  death, 
to  marry  my  daughter  Adela,  and  to  send  me  thy  sister,  that  I 
may  give  her  in  marriage  to  one  of  my  barons."  Harold,  once 
more  taken  by  surprise,  and  not  able  to  deny  his  former  words, 
approached  the  missal,  and  laid  his  hand  on  it,  not  knowing 
that  the  chest  of  relics  was  beneath.  The  old  Norman  chron- 
icler, who  describes  the  scene  most  minutely,  *  says,  when 
Harold  placed  his  hand  on  it,  the  hand  trembled,  and  the 
flesh  quivered ;  but  he  swore,  and  promised  upon  his  oath  to 
take  Ele  [Adela]  to  wife,  and  to  deliver  up  England  to  the  duke 
and  thereunto  to  do  all  in  his  power,  according  to  his  might  and 
wit,  after  the  death  of  Edward,  if  he  himself  should  live ;  so 
help  him  God.  Many  cried,  "  God  grant  it !  "  and  when  Harold 
rose  from  his  knees,  the  duke  made  him  stand  close  to  the  chest, 
and  took  ofif  the  pall  that  had  covered  it,  and  showed  Harold 
upon  what  holy  relics  he  had  sworn;  and  Harold  was  sorely 
alarmed  at  the  sight. 

Harold  was  soon  after  permitted  to  return  to  England ;  and, 
after  a  short  interval,  during  which  he  distinguished  himself  by 
the  wisdom  and  humanity  with  which  he  pacified  some  for- 
midable tumults  of  the  Anglo-Danes  in  Northumbria,  he  found 
himself  called  on  to  decide  whether  he  would  keep  the  oath 
which  the  Norman  had  obtained  from  him,  or  mount  the 
vacant  throne  of  England  in  compliance  with  the  nation's 
choice.  King  Edward  the  Confessor  died  on  the  5th  of  January, 
1066,  and  on  the  following  day  an  assembly  of  the  thanes  and 
prelates  present  in  London,  and  of  the  citizens  of  the  metropo- 
lis, declared  that  Harold  should  be  their  king.  It  was  reported 
that  the  dying  Edward  had  nominated  him  as  his  successor. 
But  the  sense  which  his  countrymen  entertained  of  his  pre- 
eminent merit  was  the  true  foundation  of  his  title  to  the  crown. 
Harold  resolved  to  disregard  the  oath  which  he  made  in  Nor- 
mandy as  violent  and  void,  and  on  the  7th  day  of  that  January 
he  was  anointed  King  of  England,  and  received  from  the  arch- 
bishop's hands  the  golden  crown  and  sceptre  of  England,  and 
also  an  ancient  national  symbol,  a  weighty  battle-axe.    He  had 

*  Wace,  "  Roman  de  Rou."    I  have  nearly  followed  his  words. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  177 

truly  deep  and  speedy  need  of  this  significant  part  of  the  in- 
signia of  Saxon  royalty. 

A  messenger  from  Normandy  soon  arrived  to  remind  Harold 
of  the  oath  which  he  had  sworn  to  the  duke  "  with  his  mouth, 
and  his  hand  upon  good  and  holy  relics."  "  It  is  true,"  replied 
the  Saxon  king,  "  that  I  took  an  oath  to  William ;  but  I  took  it 
under  constraint :  I  promised  what  did  not  belong  to  me — 
.what  I  could  not  in  any  way  hold ;  my  royalty  is  not  my  own ;  I 
could  not  lay  it  down  against  the  will  of  the  country,  nor  can  I, 
against  the  will  of  the  country,  take  a  foreign  wife.  As  for  my 
sister,  whom  the  duke  claims  that  he  may  marry  her  to  one  of 
his  chiefs,  she  has  died  within  the  year ;  would  he  have  me  send 
her  corpse?  " 

William  sent  another  message,  which  met  with  a  similar 
answer;  and  then  the  duke  published  far  and  wide  through 
Christendom  what  he  termed  the  perjury  and  bad  faith  of  his 
rival,  and  proclaimed  his  intention  of  asserting  his  rights  by 
the  sword  before  the  year  should  expire,  and  of  pursuing  and 
punishing  the  perjurer  even  in  those  places  where  he  thought 
he  stood  most  strongly  and  most  securely. 

Before,  however,  he  commenced  hostilities,  William,  with 
deep-laid  policy,  submitted  his  claims  to  the  decision  of  the 
pope.  Harold  refused  to  acknowledge  this  tribunal,  or  to 
answer  before  an  Italian  priest  for  his  title  as  an  English  king. 
After  a  formal  examination  of  William's  complaints  by  the 
pope  and  the  cardinals,  it  was  solemly  adjudged  at  Rome  that 
England  belonged  to  the  Norman  duke  ;  and  a  banner  was  sent 
to  William  from  the  Holy  See,  which  the  pope  himself  had  con- 
secrated and  blessed  for  the  invasion  of  this  island.  The  clergy 
throughout  the  Continent  were  now  assiduous  and  energetic 
in  preaching  up  William's  enterprise  as  undertaken  in  the 
cause  of  God.  Besides  these  spiritual  arms  (the  effect  of  which 
in  the  eleventh  century  must  not  be  measured  by  the  philoso- 
phy or  the  indififerentism  of  the  nineteenth),  the  Norman  duke 
applied  all  the  energies  of  his  mind  and  body,  all  the  resources 
of  his  duchy,  and  all  the  influence  he  possessed  among  vassals 
or  allies,  to  the  collection  of  "  the  most  remarkable  and  for- 
midable armament  which  the  Western  nations  had  wit- 
nessed." *  All  the  adventurous  spirits  of  Christendom  flocked 
to  the  holy  banner,  under  which  Duke  William,  the  most  re- 

*  Sir  James  Mackintosh's  "  History  of  England,"  vol.  i.,  p.  97. 
12 


lyS  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

nowned  knight  and  sagest  general  of  the  age,  promised  to  lead 
them  to  glory  and  wealth  in  the  fair  domains  of  England.  His 
army  was  filled  with  the  chivalry  of  Continental  Europe,  all 
eager  to  save  their  souls  by  fighting  at  the  pope's  bidding, 
eager  to  signalize  their  valor  in  so  great  an  enterprise,  and 
eager  also  for  the  pay  and  the  plunder  which  William  liberally 
promised.  But  the  Normans  themselves  were  the  pith  and  the 
flower  of  the  army,  and  William  himself  was  the  strongest,  the 
sagest,  and  the  fiercest  spirit  of  them  all. 

Throughout  the  spring  and  summer  of  1066,  all  the  seaports 
of  Normandy,  Picardy,  and  Brittany  rang  with  the  busy  sound 
of  preparation.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  Channel  King 
Harold  collected  the  army  and  the  fleet  with  which  he  hoped  to 
crush  the  southern  invaders.  But  the  unexpected  attack  of 
King  Harald  Hardrada  of  Norway  upon  another  part  of  Eng- 
land disconcerted  the  skilful  measures  which  the  Saxon  had 
taken  against  the  menacing  armada  of  Duke  William. 

Harold's  renegade  brother.  Earl  Tostig,  had  excited  the 
Norse  king  to  this  enterprise,  the  importance  of  which  has 
naturally  been  eclipsed  by  the  superior  interest  attached  to  the 
victorious  expedition  of  Duke  William,  but  which  was  on  a 
scale  of  grandeur  which  the  Scandinavian  ports  had  rarely,  if 
ever,  before  witnessed.  Hardrada's  fleet  consisted  of  two  hun- 
dred war-ships  and  three  hundred  other  vessels,  and  all  the 
best  warriors  of  Norway  were  in  his  host.  He  sailed  first  to  the 
Orkneys,  where  many  of  the  islanders  joined  him,  and  then 
to  Yorkshire.  After  a  severe  conflict  near  York,  he  completely 
routed  Earls  Edwin  and  Morcar,  the  governors  of  Northum- 
bria.  The  city  of  York  opened  its  gates,  and  all  the  country, 
from  the  Tyne  to  the  Humber,  submitted  to  him.  The  tidings 
of  the  defeat  of  Edwin  and  Morcar  compelled  Harold  to  leave 
his  position  on  the  southern  coast,  and  move  instantly  against 
the  Norwegians.  By  a  remarkably  rapid  marcli  he  reached 
Yorkshire  in  four  days,  and  took  the  Norse  king  and  his  con- 
federates by  surprise.  Nevertheless,  the  battle  which  ensued, 
and  which  was  fought  near  Stamford  Bridge,  was  desperate, 
and  was  long  doubtful.  Unable  to  break  the  ranks  of  the  Nor- 
wegian phalanx  by  force,  Harold  at  length  tempted  them  to 
quit  their  close  order  by  a  pretended  flight.  Then  the  English 
columns  burst  in  among  them,  and  a  carnage  ensued,  the 
extent  of  which  may  be  judged  of  by  the  exhaustion  and  in- 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  179 

activity  of  Norway  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  afterwards.  King 
Harald  Hardrada,  and  all  the  flower  of  his  nobility,  perished 
on  the  25th  of  September,  1066,  at  Stamford  Bridge,  a  battle 
which  was  a  Flodden  to  Norway. 

Harold's  victory  was  splendid ;  but  he  had  bought  it  dearly 
by  the  fall  of  many  of  his  best  officers  and  men,  and  still  more 
dearly  by  the  opportunity  which  Duke  William  had  gained 
of  effecting  an  unopposed  landing  on  the  Sussex  coast.  The 
whole  of  William's  shipping  had  assembled  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Dive,  a  little  river  between  the  Seine  and  the  Orne,  as  early  as 
the  middle  of  August.  The  army  which  he  had  collected 
amounted  to  fifty  thousand  knights  and  ten  thousand  soldiers 
of  inferior  degree.  Many  of  the  knights  were  mounted,  but 
many  must  have  served  on  foot,  as  it  is  hardly  possible  to  be- 
lieve that  William  could  have  found  transports  for  the  convey- 
ance of  fifty  thousand  war-horses  across  the  Channel.  For  a 
long  time  the  winds  were  adverse,  and  the  duke  employed  the 
interval  that  passed  before  he  could  set  sail  in  completing 
the  organization  and  in  improving  the  discipline  of  his  army, 
which  he  seems  to  have  brought  into  the  same  state  of  perfec- 
tion as  was  seven  centuries  and  a  half  afterwards  the  boast  of 
another  army  assembled  on  the  same  coast,  and  which  Na- 
poleon designed  (but  providentially  in  vain)  for  a  similar  de- 
scent upon  England. 

It  was  not  till  the  approach  of  the  equinox  that  the  wind 
veered  from  the  northeast  to  the  west,  and  gave  the  Normans 
an  opportunity  of  quitting  the  weary  shores  of  the  Dive.  They 
eagerly  embarked,  and  set  sail,  but  the  wind  soon  freshened  to 
a  gale,  and  drove  them  along  the  French  coast  to  St.  Valery, 
where  the  greater  part  of  them  found  shelter ;  but  many  of  their 
vessels  were  wrecked,  and  the  whole  coast  of  Normandy  was 
strewn  with  the  bodies  of  the  drowned.  William's  army  began 
to  grow  discouraged  and  averse  to  the  enterprise,  which  the 
very  elements  thus  seemed  to  fight  against ;  though,  in  reality, 
the  northeast  wind,  which  had  cooped  them  so  long  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Dive,  and  the  western  gale,  which  had  forced 
them  into  St.  Valery,  were  the  best  possible  friends  to  the  in- 
vaders. They  prevented  the  Normans  from  crossing  the  Chan- 
nel until  the  Saxon  king  and  his  army  of  defence  had  been  called 
away  from  the  Sussex  coast  to  encounter  Harald  Hardrada  in 
Yorkshire ;  and  also  until  a  formidable  English  fleet,  which 


i8o  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

by  King  Harold's  orders  had  been  cruising  in  the  Channel  to 
intercept  the  Normans,  had  been  obliged  to  disperse  tem- 
porarily for  the  purpose  of  refitting  and  taking  in  fresh  stores 
of  provisions. 

Duke  William  used  every  expedient  to  reanimate  the  droop- 
ing spirits  of  his  men  at  St.  Valery ;  and  at  last  he  caused  the 
body  of  the  patron  saint  of  the  place  to  be  exhumed  and  carried 
in  solemn  procession,  while  the  whole  assemblage  of  soldiers, 
mariners,  and  appurtenant  priests  implored  the  saint's  interces- 
sion for  a  change  of  wind.  That  very  night  the  wind  veered ; 
and  enabled  the  mediaeval  Agamemnon  to  quit  his  Aulis. 

With  full  sails,  and  a  following  southern  breeze,  the  Xorman 
Armada  left  the  French  shores  and  steered  for  England.  The 
invaders  crossed  an  undefended  sea,  and  found  an  undefended 
coast.  It  was  in  Pevensey  Bay,  in  Sussex,  at  Bulverhithe,  be- 
tween the  castle  of  Pevensey  and  Hastings,  that  the  last  con- 
querors of  this  island  landed  on  the  29th  of  September,  1066. 

Harold  was  at  York,  rejoicing  over  his  recent  victory,  which 
had  delivered  England  from  her  ancient  Scandinavian  foes, 
and  resettling  the  government  of  the  counties  which  Harald 
Hardrada  had  overrun,  when  the  tidings  reached  him  that 
Duke  William  of  Normandy  and  his  host  had  landed  on  the 
Sussex  shore.  Harold  instantly  hurried  southward  to  meet 
this  long-expected  enemy.  The  severe  loss  which  his  army  had 
sustained  in  the  battle  with  the  Norwegians  must  have  made 
it  impossible  for  many  of  his  veteran  troops  to  accompany 
him  in  his  forced  march  to  London,  and  thence  to  Sussex.  He 
halted  at  the  capital  only  six  days,  and  during  that  time  gave 
orders  for  collecting  forces  from  the  southern  and  midland 
counties,  and  also  directed  his  fleet  to  reassemble  ofT  the  Sussex 
coast.  Harold  was  well  received  in  London,  and  his  summons 
to  arms  was  promptly  obeyed  by  citizen,  by  thane,  by  sokman, 
and  by  ceorl,  for  he  had  shown  himself,  during  his  brief  reio-n, 
a  just  and  wise  king,  affable  to  all  men,  active  for  the  good 
of  his  country,  and  (in  the  words  of  the  old  historian)  sparing 
himself  from  no  fatigue  by  land  or  by  sea.  *  He  might  have 
gathered  a  much  more  numerous  army  than  that  of  \\'illiam  ; 
but  his  recent  victory  had  made  him  over-confident,  and  he 
was  irritated  by  the  reports  of  the  country  being  ravaged  bv 

*  See  Roger  de  Hoveden  and  William  of  Alalmesbury,  cited  in  Thierry 
book  iii.  ' 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  i8i 

the  invaders.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  he  had  collected  a  small 
army  in  London,  he  marched  off  towards  the  coast,  pressing 
forward  as  rapidly  as  his  men  could  traverse  Surrey  and  Sus- 
sex, in  the  hope  of  taking  the  Xormans  unawares,  as  he  had 
recently,  by  a  similar  forced  march,  succeeded  in  surprising 
the  Norwegians.  But  he  had  now  to  deal  with  a  foe  equally 
brave  with  Harald  Hardrada,  and  far  more  skilful  and  wary. 

The  old  Norman  chroniclers  describe  the  preparations  of 
William  on  his  landing  with  a  graphic  vigor,  which  would  be 
wholly  lost  by  transfusing  their  racy  Norman  couplets  and 
terse  Latin  prose  into  the  current  style  of  modern  history.  It  is 
best  to  follow  them  closely,  though  at  the  expense  of  much 
quaintness  and  occasional  uncouthness  of  expression.  They  tell 
us  how  Duke  William's  own  ship  was  the  first  of  the  Norman 
fleet.  It  was  called  the  Mora,  and  was  the  gift  of  his  duchess 
^^latilda.  On  the  head  of  the  ship,  in  the  front,  which  mariners 
call  the  prow,  there  was  a  brazen  child  bearing  an  arrow  with  a 
bended  bow.  His  face  was  turned  towards  England,  and  thither 
he  looked,  as  though  he  was  about  to  shoot.  The  breeze  be- 
came soft  and  sweet,  and  the  sea  was  smooth  for  their  landing. 
The  ships  ran  on  dry  land,  and  each  ranged  by  the  other's  side. 
There  you  might  see  the  good  sailors,  the  sergeants,  and 
squires  sally  forth  and  unload  the  ships ;  cast  the  anchors,  haul 
the  ropes,  bear  out  shields  and  saddles,  and  land  the  war-horses 
and  the  palfreys.  The  archers  came  forth,  and  touched  land 
the  first,  each  with  his  bow^  strung,  and  with  his  quiver  full  of 
arrows  slung  at  his  side.  All  were  shaven  and  shorn ;  and  all 
clad  in  short  garments,  ready  to  attack,  to  shoot,  to  wheel  about 
and  skirmish.  All  stood  well  equipped,  and  of  good  courage 
for  the  light ;  and  they  scoured  the  whole  shore,  but  found  not 
an  armed  man  there.  After  the  archers  had  thus  gone  forth, 
the  knights  landed  all  armed,  with  their  hauberks  on,  their 
shields  slung  at  their  necks,  and  their  helmets  laced.  They 
formed  together  on  the  shore,  each  armed,  and  mounted  on 
his  war-horse ;  all  had  their  swords  girded  on,  and  rode  forward 
into  the  country  with  their  lances  raised.  Then  the  carpenters 
landed,  who  had  great  axes  in  their  hands,  and  planes  and 
adzes  hung  at  their  sides.  They  took  counsel  together,  and 
sought  for  a  good  spot  to  place  a  castle  on.  They  had  brought 
with  them  in  the  fleet  three  wooden  castles  from  Normandy  in 
pieces,  all  ready  for  framing  together,  and  they  took  the  ma- 


i82  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

terials  of  one  of  these  out  of  the  ships,  all  shaped  and  pierced 
to  receive  the  pins  which  they  had  brought  cut  and  ready  in 
large  barrels ;  and  before  evening  had  set  in,  they  had  finished 
a  good  fort  on  the  English  ground,  and  there  they  placed  their 
stores.  All  then  ate  and  drank  enough,  and  were  right  glad 
that  they  were  ashore. 

When  Duke  William  himself  landed,  as  he  stepped  on  the 
shore,  he  slipped  and  fell  forward  upon  his  two  hands.  Forth- 
with all  raised  a  loud  cry  of  distress.  "  An  evil  sign,"  said  they, 
"  is  here."  But  he  cried  out  lustily,  "  See,  my  lords,  by  the 
splendor  of  God,  *  I  have  taken  possession  of  England  with 
both  my  hands.  It  is  now  mine,  and  what  is  mine  is  yours." 

The  next  day  they  marched  along  the  sea-shore  to  Hastings. 
Near  that  place  the  duke  fortified  a  camp,  and  set  up  the  two 
other  wooden  castles.  The  foragers,  and  those  who  looked  out 
for  booty,  seized  all  the  clothing  and  provisions  they  could 
find,  lest  what  had  been  brought  by  the  ships  should  fail  them. 
And  the  English  were  to  be  seen  fleeing  before  them,  driving 
off  their  cattle,  and  quitting  their  houses.  Many  took  shelter 
in  burying-places,  and  even  there  they  were  in  grievous  alarm. 

Besides  the  maurauders  from  the  Norman  camp,  strong  bod- 
ies of  cavalry  were  detached  by  William  into  the  country,  and 
these,  when  Harold  and  his  army  made  their  rapid  march  from 
London  southward,  fell  back  in  good  order  upon  the  main  body 
of  the  Normans,  and  reported  that  the  Saxon  king  was  rushing 
on  like  a  madman.  But  Harold,  when  he  found  that  his  hopes 
of  surprising  his  adversary  were  vain,  changed  his  tactics,  and 
halted  about  seven  miles  from  the  Norman  lines.  He  sent  some 
spies,  who  spoke  the  French  language,  to  examine  the  number 
and  preparations  of  the  enemy,  who,  on  their  return,  related 
with  astonishment  that  there  were  more  priests  in  William's 
camp  than  there  were  fighting  men  in  the  English  army.  They 
had  mistaken  for  priests  all  the  Norman  soldiers  who  had  short 
hair  and  shaven  chins,  for  the  English  laymen  were  then  accus- 
tomed to  wear  long  hair  and  mustachios.  Harold,  who  knew 
the  Norman  usages,  smiled  at  their  words,  and  said,  "  Those 
whom  you  have  seen  in  such  numbers  are  not  priests,  but  stout 
soldiers,  as  they  will  soon  make  us  feel." 

Harold's  army  was  far  inferior  in  number  to  that  of  the  Nor- 
mans, and  some  of  his  captains  advised  him  to  retreat  upon 
*  William's  customary  oath. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  183 

London  and  lay  waste  the  country,  so  as  to  starve  down  the 
strength  of  the  invaders.  The  policy  thus  recommended  was 
unquestionably  the  wisest,  for  the  Saxon  fleet  had  now  reas- 
sembled, and  intercepted  all  William's  communications  with 
Normandy ;  and  as  soon  as  his  stores  of  provisions  were  ex- 
hausted, he  must  have  moved  forward  upon  London,  where 
Harold,  at  the  head  of  the  full  military  strength  of  the  kingdom, 
could  have  defied  his  assault,  and  probably  might  have  wit- 
nessed his  rival's  destruction  by  famine  and  disease,  without 
having  to  strike  a  single  blow.  But  Harold's  bold  blood  was 
up,  and  his  kindly  heart  could  not  endure  to  inflict  on  the  South 
Saxon  subjects  even  the  temporary  misery  of  wasting  the 
country.  "  He  would  not  burn  houses  and  villages,  neither 
would  he  take  away  the  substance  of  his  people." 

Harold's  brothers,  Gurth  and  Leofwine,  were  with  him  in 
the  camp,  and  Gurth  endeavored  to  persuade  him  to  absent 
himself  from  the  battle.  The  incident  shows  how  well  devised 
had  been  William's  scheme  of  binding  Harold  by  the  oath  on 
the  holy  relics.  "  My  brother,"  said  the  young  Saxon  prince, 
"  thou  canst  not  deny  diat  either  by  force  or  free  will  thou  hast 
made  Duke  Willian"  dti  oath  on  the  bodies  of  saints.  Why  then 
risk  thyself  in  the  l^yttle  with  a  perjury  upon  thee  ?  To  us,  who 
have  sworn  nothiiig,  this  is  a  holy  and  a  just  war,  for  we  are 
fighting  for  our  country.  Leave  us  then  alone  to  fight  this  bat- 
tle, and  he  who  has  the  right  will  win."  Harold  replied  that  he 
would  not  look  on  while  others  risked  their  lives  for  him.  Men 
would  hold  him  a  coward,  and  blame  him  for  sending  his  best 
friends  where  he  dared  not  go  himself.  He  resolved,  therefore, 
to  fight,  and  to  fight  in  person ;  but  he  was  still  too  good  a 
general  to  be  the  assailant  in  the  action ;  and  he  posted  his 
army  with  great  skill  along  a  ridge  of  rising  ground  which 
opened  southward,  and  was  covered  on  the  back  by  an  exten- 
sive wood.  He  strengthened  his  position  by  a  palisade  of 
stakes  and  osier  hurdles,  and  there  he  said  he  would  defend 
himself  against  whoever  should  seek  him. 

The  ruins  of  Battle  Abbey  at  this  hour  attest  the  place  where 
Harold's  army  was  posted ;  and  the  high  altar  of  the  abbey 
stood  on  the  very  spot  where  Harold's  own  standard  was 
planted  during  the  fight,  and  where  the  carnage  was  the  thick- 
est. Immediately  after  his  victory,  William  vowed  to  build  an 
^bbey  on  the  site ;  and  a  fair  and  stately  pile  soon  rose  there, 


i84  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

where  for  many  ages  the  monks  prayed  and  said  masses  for 
the  souls  of  those  who  were  slain  in  the  battle,  whence  the 
abbey  took  its  name.  Before  that  time  the  place  was  called 
Senlac.  Little  of  the  ancient  edifice  now  remains  ;  but  it  is  easy 
to  trace  in  the  park  and  the  neighborhood  the  scenes  of  the 
chief  incidents  in  the  action ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  deny  the 
generalship  shown  by  Harold  in  stationing  his  men,  especially 
when  we  bear  in  mind  that  he  was  deficient  in  cavalry,  the  arm 
in  which  his  adversary's  main  strength  consisted. 

William's  only  chance  of  safety  lay  in  bringing  on  a  general 
engagement ;  and  he  joyfully  advanced  his  army  from  their 
camp  on  the  hill  over  Hastings,  nearer  to  the  Saxon  position. 
But  he  neglected  no  means  of  weakening  his  opponent,  and  re- 
newed his  summonses  and  demands  on  Harold  with  an  osten- 
tatious air  of  sanctity  and  moderation. 

"  A  monk,  named  Hugues  Maigrot,  came  in  William's  name 
to  call  upon  the  Saxon  king  to  do  one  of  three  things — either  to 
resign  his  royalty  in  favor  of  William,  or  to  refer  it  to  the  arbi- 
tration of  the  pope  to  decide  which  of  the  two  ought  to  be 
king,  or  to  let  it  be  determined  by  the  issue  of  a  single  combat. 
Harold  abruptly  replied,  '  I  will  not  resign  my  title,  I  will  not 
refer  it  to  the  pope,  nor  will  I  accept  the  single  combat.'  He 
was  far  from  being  deficient  in  bravery ;  but  he  was  no  more 
at  liberty  to  stake  the  crown,  which  he  had  received  from  a 
whole  people,  in  the  chance  of  a  duel,  than  to  deposit  it  in  the 
hands  of  an  Italian  priest.  William,  not  at  all  ruffled  by  the 
Saxon's  refusal,  but  steadily  pursuing  the  course  of  his  cal- 
culated measures,  sent  the  Norman  monk  again,  after  giving 
him  these  instructions :  '  Go  and  tell  Harold  that  if  he  will  keep 
his  former  compact  with  me,  I  will  leave  to  him  all  the  country 
which  is  beyond  the  Humber,  and  will  give  his  brother  Gurth 
all  the  lands  which  Godwin  held.  If  he  still  persist  in  refusing 
my  ofifers,  then  thou  shalt  tell  him,  before  all  his  people,  that  he 
is  a  perjurer  and  a  liar ;  that  he  and  all  who  shall  support  him 
are  excommunicated  by  the  mouth  of  the  pope,  and  that  the 
bull  to  that  efifect  is  in  my  hands.' 

"  Hugues  Maigrot  delivered  this  message  in  a  solemn  tone ; 
and  the  Norman  chronicle  says  that  at  the  word  excommuni- 
cation, the  English  chiefs  looked  at  one  another  as  if  some 
great  danger  were  impending.  One  of  them  then  spoke  as  fol- 
lows:   'We  must  light,  whatever  may  be  the  danger  to  us; 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  185 

for  what  we  have  to  consider  is  not  whether  we  shall  accept  and 
receive  a  new  lord,  as  if  our  king  were  dead ;  the  case  in  quite 
otherwise.  The  Norman  has  given  our  lands  to  his  captains,  to 
his  knights,  to  all  his  people,  the  greater  part  of  whom  have 
already  done  homage  to  him  for  them :  they  will  all  look  for 
their  gift  if  their  duke  become  our  king;  and  he  himself  is 
bound  to  deliver  up  to  them  our  goods,  our  wives,  and  our 
daughters :  all  is  promised  to  them  beforehand.  They  come, 
not  only  to  ruin  us,  but  to  ruin  our  descendants  also,  and  to 
take  from  us  the  country  of  our  ancestors.  And  what  shall  we 
do — whither  shall  we  go,  when  we  have  no  longer  a  country  ?  ' 
The  English  promised,  by  a  unanimous  oath,  to  make  neither 
peace,  nor  truce,  nor  treaty  with  the  invader,  but  to  die,  or  drive 
away  the  Normans."  * 

The  13th  of  October  was  occupied  in  these  negotiations,  and 
at  night  the  duke  announced  to  his  men  that  the  next  day 
would  be  the  day  of  battle.  That  night  is  said  to  have  been 
passed  by  the  two  armies  in  very  different  manners.  The 
Saxon  soldiers  spent  it  in  joviality,  singing  their  national  songs, 
and  draining  huge  horns  of  ale  and  wine  round  their  camp- 
fires.  The  Normans,  when  they  had  looked  to  their  arms  and 
horses,  confessed  themselves  to  the  priests  with  whom  their 
camp  was  thronged,  and  received  the  sacrament  by  thousands 
at  a  time. 

On  Saturday,  the  14th  of  October,  was  fought  the  great 
battle. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  compose  a  narrative  of  its  principal  inci- 
dents from  the  historical  information  which  we  possess,  espe- 
cially if  aided  by  an  examination  of  the  ground.  But  it  is  far 
better  to  adopt  the  spirit-stirring  words  of  the  old  chroniclers, 
who  wrote  while  the  recollections  of  the  battle  were  yet  fresh ; 
and  while  the  feelings  and  prejudices  of  the  combatants  yet 
glowed  in  the  bosoms  of  living  men.  Robert  Wace,  the  Nor- 
man poet,  who  presented  his  "  Roman  de  Rou  "  to  our  Henry 
II.,  is  the  most  picturesque  and  animated  of  the  old  writers, 
and  from  him  we  can  obtain  a  more  vivid  and  full  description 
of  the  conflict  than  even  the  most  brilliant  romance-writer  of 
the  present  time  can  supply.  We  have  also  an  antique  memorial 
of  the  battle  more  to  be  relied  on  than  either  chronicler  or  poet 
(and  which  confirms  Wace's  narrative  remarkably),  in  the  cele- 

*  Thierry. 


i86  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

brated  Bayeux  tapestry  which  represents  the  principal  scenes 
of  Duke  WilHam's  expedition,  and  of  the  circumstances  con- 
nected with  it,  in  minute  though  occasionally  grotesque  de- 
tails, and  which  was  undoubtedly  the  production  of  the  same 
age  in  which  the  battle  took  place,  whether  we  admit  or  reject 
the  legend  that  Queen  Matilda  and  the  ladies  of  her  court 
wrought  it  with  their  own  hands  in  honor  of  the  royal  con- 
queror. 

Let  us  therefore  suffer  the  old  Norman  chronicler  to  trans- 
port our  imaginations  to  the  fair  Sussex  scenery  northwest  of 
Hastings,  as  it  appeared  on  the  morning  of  the  fourteenth  of 
October,  seven  hundred  and  eighty-five  years  ago.  The  Nor- 
man host  is  pouring  forth  from  its  tents,  and  each  troop  and 
each  company  is  forming  fast  under  the  banner  of  its  leader. 
The  masses  have  been  sung,  which  were  finished  betimes  in  the 
morning ;  the  barons  have  all  assembled  round  Duke  William  ; 
and  the  duke  has  ordered  that  the  army  shall  be  formed  in  three 
divisions,  so  as  to  make  the  attack  upon  the  Saxon  position  in 
three  places.  The  duke  stood  on  a  hill  where  he  could  best 
see  his  men  ;  the  barons  surrounded  him,  and  he  spake  to  them 
proudly.  He  told  them  how  he  trusted  them,  and  how  all  that 
he  gained  should  be  theirs,  and  how  sure  he  felt  of  conquest,  for 
in  all  the  world  there  was  not  so  brave  an  army,  or  such  good 
men  and  true  as  were  then  forming  around  him.  Then  they 
cheered  him  in  turn,  and  cried  out,  "  '  You  will  not  see  one  cow- 
ard ;  none  here  will  fear  to  die  for  love  of  you,  if  need  be.'  And 
he  answered  them,  *  I  thank  you  well.  For  God's  sake,  spare 
not ;  strike  hard  at  the  beginning ;  stay  not  to  take  spoil ;  all 
the  booty  shall  be  in  common,  and  there  will  be  plenty  for 
every  one.  There  will  be  no  safety  in  asking  quarter  or  in 
flight ;  the  English  will  never  love  or  spare  a  Norman.  Felons 
they  were,  and  felons  they  are ;  false  they  were,  and  false  they 
will  be.  Show  no  weakness  towards  them,  for  they  will  have  no 
pity  on  you  ;  neither  the  coward  for  running  well,  nor  the  bold 
man  for  smiting  well,  will  be  the  better  liked  by  the  English, 
nor  will  any  be  the  more  spared  on  either  account.  You  may 
fly  to  the  sea,  but  you  can  fly  no  farther ;  you  will  find  neither 
ships  nor  bridge  there ;  there  will  be  no  sailors  to  receive  you ; 
and  the  English  will  overtake  you  there,  and  slay  you  in  your 
shame.  More  of  you  will  die  in  flight  than  in  battle.  Then,  as 
flight  will  not  secure  you,  fight,  and  you  will  conquer.    I  have 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  187 

no  doubt  of  the  victory ;  we  are  come  for  glory ;  the  victory  is 
in  our  hands,  and  we  may  make  sure  of  obtaining  it  if  we  so 
please.'  As  the  duke  was  speaking  thus  and  would  yet  have 
spoken  more,  William  Fitz  Osber  rode  up  with  his  horse  all 
coated  with  iron :  '  Sire,'  said  he,  '  we  tarry  here  too  long ;  let 
us  all  arm  ourselves.    Allons!  allonst ' 

"  Then  all  went  to  their  tents,  and  armed  themselves  as  they 
best  might ;  and  the  duke  was  very  busy,  giving  every  one  his 
orders ;  and  he  was  courteous  to  all  the  vassals,  giving  away 
many  arms  and  horses  to  them.  When  he  prepared  to  arm  him- 
self, he  called  first  for  his  hauberk,  and  a  man  brought  it  on  his 
arm,  and  placed  it  before  him,  but  in  putting  his  head  in,  to  get 
it  on,  he  unawares  turned  it  the  wrong  way,  with  the  back  part  in 
front.  He  soon  changed  it ;  but  when  he  saw  that  those  who 
stood  by  were  sorely  alarmed,  he  said,  '  I  have  seen  many  a 
man  who,  if  such  a  thing  had  happened  to  him,  would  not  have 
borne  arms,  or  entered  the  field  the  same  day ;  but  I  never  be- 
lieved in  omens,  and  I  never  will.  I  trust  in  God,  for  he  does  in 
all  things  his  pleasure,  and  ordains  what  is  to  come  to  pass  ac- 
cording to  his  will.  I  have  never  liked  fortune-tellers,  nor  be- 
lieved in  diviners ;  but  I  commend  myself  to  Our  Lady.  Let 
not  this  mischance  give  you  trouble.  The  hauberk  which  was 
turned  wrong,  and  then  set  right  by  me,  signifies  that  a  change 
will  arise  out  of  the  matter  which  we  are  now  stirring.  You 
shall  see  the  name  of  duke  changed  into  king.  Yea,  a  king  shall 
I  be,  who  hitherto  have  been  but  duke.'  Then  he  crossed  him- 
self, and  straightway  took  his  hauberk,  stooped  his  head,  and 
put  it  on  aright ;  and  laced  his  helmet,  and  girt  on  his  sword, 
which  a  varlet  brought  him.  Then  the  duke  called  for  his  good 
horse — a  better  could  not  be  found.  It  had  been  sent  him  by  a 
king  of  Spain,  out  of  very  great  friendship.  Neither  arms  nor 
the  press  of  fighting  men  did  it  fear,  if  its  lord  spurred  it  on. 
Walter  Gififard  brought  it.  The  duke  stretched  out  his  hand, 
took  the  reins,  put  foot  in  stirrup,  and  mounted ;  and  the  good 
horse  pawed,  pranced,  reared  himself  up,  and  curveted.  The 
Viscount  of  Toarz  saw  how  the  duke  bore  himself  in  arms,  and 
said  to  his  people  that  were  around  him,  '  Never  have  I  seen  a 
man  so  fairly  armed,  nor  one  who  rode  so  gallantly,  or  bore  his 
arms,  or  became  his  hauberk  so  well ;  neither  any  one  who  bore 
his  lance  so  gracefully,  or  sat  his  horse  and  managed  him  so 
nobly.   There  is  no  such  knight  under  heaven !  a  fair  count  he  is, 


i88  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

and  fair  king  he  will  be.  Let  him  fight,  and  he  shall  overcome ; 
shame  be  to  the  man  who  shall  fail  him.' 

"  Then  the  duke  called  for  the  standard  which  the  pope  had 
sent  him,  and  he  who  bore  it  having  unfolded  it,  the  duke  took 
it  and  called  to  Raol  de  Conches.  '  Bear  my  standard,'  said  he, 
'  for  I  would  not  but  do  you  right ;  by  right  and  by  ancestry  your 
line  are  standard-bearers  of  Normandy,  and  very  good  knights 
have  they  all  been.'  But  Raol  said  that  he  would  serve  the  duke 
that  day  in  other  guise,  and  would  fight  the  English  with  his 
hand  as  long  as  life  should  last.  Then  the  duke  bade  Galtier 
Giffart  bear  the  standard.  But  he  was  old  and  white-headed, 
and  bade  the  duke  give  the  standard  to  some  younger  and 
stronger  man  to  carry.  Then  the  duke  said  fiercely,  '  By  the 
splendor  of  God,  my  lords,  I  think  you  mean  to  betray  and 
fail  me  in  this  great  need.'  *  Sire,'  said  Giffart, '  not  so !  we  have 
done  no  treason,  nor  do  I  refuse  from  any  felony  toward  you ; 
but  I  have  to  lead  a  great  chivalry,  both  hired  men  and  the  men 
of  my  fief.  Never  had  I  such  good  means  of  serving  you  as  I 
now  have  ;  and,  if  God  please,  I  will  serve  you  ;  if  need  be,  I  will 
die  for  you,  and  will  give  my  own  heart  for  yours.' 

"  '  By  my  faith,'  quoth  the  duke,  '  I  always  loved  thee,  and 
now  I  love  thee  more ;  if  I  survive  this  day,  thou  shalt  be  the 
better  for  it  all  thy  days.'  Then  he  called  out  a  knight,  whom 
he  had  heard  much  praised,  Tosteins  Fitz-Rou  le  Blanc  by 
name,  whose  abode  was  at  Bec-en-Caux.  To  him  he  delivered 
the  standard  ;  and  Tosteins  took  it  right  cheerfully,  and  bowed 
low  to  him  in  thanks,  and  bore  it  gallantly,  and  with  good  heart. 
His  kindred  still  have  quittance  of  all  service  for  their  inheri- 
tance on  this  account,  and  their  heirs  are  entitled  so  to  hold 
their  inheritance  forever. 

"  William  sat  on  his  war-horse,  and  called  out  Rogier,  whom 
they  call  De  Montgomeri.  '  I  rely  much  on  you,'  said  he ; 
'  lead  your  men  thitherward,  and  attack  them  from  that  side. 
William,  the  son  of  Osber,  the  seneschal,  a  right  good  vassal, 
shall  go  with  you  and  help  in  the  attack,  and  you  shall  have  the 
men  of  Boilogne  and  Poix,  and  all  my  soldiers.  Alain  Fergert 
and  Ameri  shall  attack  on  the  other  side ;  they  shall  lead  the 
Poitevins  and  the  Bretons,  and  all  the  barons  of  Maine ;  and  I, 
with  my  own  great  men,  my  friends  and  kindred,  will  fight  in 
the  middle  throng,  where  the  battle  shall  be  the  hottest.' 

"  The  barons,  and  knights,  and  men-at-arms  were  all  now 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  189 

armed ;  the  foot-soldiers  were  well  equipped,  each  bearing  bow 
and  sword ;  on  their  heads  were  caps,  and  to  their  feet  were 
bound  buskins.  Some  had  good  hides  which  they  had  bound 
round  their  bodies ;  and  many  were  clad  in  frocks,  and  had 
quivers  and  bows  hung  to  their  girdles.  The  knights  had  hau- 
berks and  swords,  boots  of  steel,  and  shining  helmets ;  shields 
at  their  necks,  and  in  their  hands  lances.  And  all  had  their 
cognizances,  so  that  each  might  know  his  fellow,  and  Norman 
might  not  strike  Norman,  nor  Frenchman  kill  his  countryman 
by  mistake.  Those  on  foot  led  the  way,  with  serried  ranks, 
bearing  their  bows.  The  knights  rode  next,  supporting  the 
archers  from  behind.  Thus  both  horse  and  foot  kept  their 
course  and  order  of  march  as  they  began,  in  close  ranks  at  a 
gentle  pace,  that  the  one  might  not  pass  or  separate  from  the 
other.  All  went  firmly  and  compactly,  bearing  themselves  gal- 
lantly. 

"  Harold  had  summoned  his  men,  earls,  barons,  and  vavas- 
sors,  from  the  castles  and  the  cities,  from  the  ports,  the  villages 
and  boroughs.  The  peasants  were  also  called  together  from 
the  villages,  bearing  such  arms  as  they  found ;  clubs  and  great 
picks,  iron  forks  and  stakes.  The  English  had  enclosed  the 
place  where  Harold  was  with  his  friends  and  the  barons  of  the 
country  whom  he  had  summoned  and  called  together. 

"  Those  of  London  had  come  at  once,  and  those  of  Kent,  of 
Hertfort,  and  of  Essesse ;  those  of  Suree  and  Susesse,  of  St. 
Edmund  and  Sufoc ;  of  Norwis  and  Norfoc ;  of  Cantorbierre 
and  Stanfort;  Bedefort  and  Hundestone.  The  men  of  North- 
anton  also  came ;  and  those  of  Eurowic  and  Bokinkeham,  of 
Bed  and  Notinkeham,  Lindesie  and  Nichole.  There  came  also 
from  the  west  all  who  heard  the  summons  ;  and  very  many  were 
to  be  seen  coming  from  Salebiere  and  Dorset,  from  Bat  and 
from  Sumerset.  Many  came,  too,  from  about  Glocestre,  and 
many  from  Wirecestre,  from  Wincestre,  Hontesire  and  Briche- 
sire ;  and  many  more  from  other  counties  that  we  have  not 
named,  and  cannot,  indeed,  recount.  All  who  could  bear  arms, 
and  had  learned  the  news  of  the  duke's  arrival,  came  to  defend 
the  land.  But  none  came  from  beyond  Humbre,  for  they  had 
other  business  upon  their  hands,  the  Danes  and  Tosti  having 
much  damaged  and  weakened  them. 

"  Harold  knew  that  the  Normans  would  come  and  attack 
him  hand  to  hand,  so  he  had  early  enclosed  the  field  in  which 


ipo  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

he  had  placed  his  men.  He  made  them  arm  early,  and  range 
themselves  for  the  battle,  he  himself  having  put  on  arms  and 
equipments  that  became  such  a  lord.  The  duke,  he  said,  ought 
to  seek  him,  as  he  wanted  to  conquer  England ;  and  it  became 
him  to  abide  the  attack  who  had  to  defend  the  land.  He  com- 
manded the  people,  and  counselled  his  barons  to  keep  them- 
selves all  together,  and  defend  themselves  in  a  body ;  for  if  they 
once  separated,  they  would  with  difficulty  recover  themselves. 
*  The  Normans,'  he  said,  '  are  good  vassals,  valiant  on  foot  and 
on  horseback ;  good  knights  are  they  on  horseback,  and  well 
used  to  battle ;  all  is  lost  if  they  once  penetrate  our  ranks.  They 
have  brought  long  lances  and  swords,  but  you  have  pointed 
lances  and  keen-edged  bills ;  and  I  do  not  expect  that  their 
arms  can  stand  against  yours.  Cleave  whenever  you  can ;  it  will 
be  ill  done  if  you  spare  aught.' 

"  The  English  had  built  up  a  fence  before  them  with  their 
shields,  and  with  ash  and  other  wood,  and  had  well  joined  and 
wattled  in  the  whole  work,  so  as  not  to  leave  even  a  crevice ; 
and  thus  they  had  a  barricade  in  their  front  through  which  any 
Norman  who  would  attack  them  must  first  pass.  Being  covered 
in  this  way  by  their  shields  and  barricades,  their  aim  was  to 
defend  themselves ;  and  if  they  had  remained  steady  for  that 
purpose,  they  would  not  have  been  conquered  that  day ;  for 
every  Norman  who  made  his  way  in,  lost  his  life  in  dishonor, 
either  by  hatchet  or  bill,  by  club  or  other  weapon.  They  wore 
short  and  close  hauberks,  and  helmets  that  hung  over  their 
garments.  King  Harold  issued  orders,  and  made  proclama- 
tion round,  that  all  should  be  ranged  with  their  faces  toward  the 
enemy,  and  that  no  one  should  move  from  where  he  was,  so 
that  whoever  came  might  find  them  ready ;  and  that  whatever 
any  one,  be  he  Norman  or  other,  should  do,  each  should  do  his 
best  to  defend  his  own  place.  Then  he  ordered  the  men  of  Kent 
to  go  where  the  Normans  were  likely  to  make  the  attack ;  for 
they  say  that  the  men  of  Kent  are  entitled  to  strike  first ;  and 
that  whenever  the  king  goes  to  battle,  the  first  blow  belongs  to 
them.  The  right  of  the  men  of  London  is  to  guard  the  king's 
body,  to  place  themselves  around  him,  and  to  guard  his  stand- 
ard ;  and  they  were  accordingly  placed  by  the  standard  to 
watch  and  defend  it. 

"  When  Harold  had  made  all  ready,  and  given  his  orders, 
he  came  into  the  midst  of  the  English  and  dismounted  by  the 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  191 

side  of  the  standard ;  Leofwin  and  Gurth,  his  brothers,  were 
with  him ;  and  around  him  he  had  barons  enough,  as  he  stood 
by  his  standard,  which  was,  in  truth,  a  noble  one,  sparkhng 
with  gold  and  precious  stones.  After  the  victory  William  sent 
it  to  the  pope,  to  prove  and  commemorate  his  great  conquest 
and  glory.  The  English  stood  in  close  ranks,  ready  and  eager 
for  the  fight;  and  they,  moreover,  made  a  fosse,  which  went 
across  the  field,  guarding  one  side  of  their  army. 

"  Meanwhile  the  Normans  appeared  advancing  over  the 
ridge  of  a  rising  ground,  and  the  first  division  of  their  troops 
moved  onward  along  the  hill  and  across  a  valley.  And  pres- 
ently another  division,  still  larger,  came  in  sight,  close  follow- 
ing upon  the  first,  and  they  were  led  towards  another  part  of 
the  field,  forming  together  as  the  first  body  had  done.  And, 
while  Harold  saw  and  examined  them,  and  was  pointing 
them  out  to  Gurth,  a  fresh  company  came  in  sight,  covering 
all  the  plain ;  and  in  the  midst  of  them  was  raised  the  standard 
that  came  from  Rome.  Near  it  was  the  duke,  and  the  best 
men  and  greatest  strength  of  the  army  were  there.  The  good 
knights,  the  good  vassals  and  brave  warriors  were  there ;  and 
there  were  gathered  together  the  gentle  barons,  the  good  arch- 
ers, and  the  men-at-arms,  whose  duty  it  was  to  guard  the  duke, 
and  range  themselves  around  him.  The  youths  and  common 
herd  of  the  camp,  whose  business  was  not  to  join  in  the  battle, 
but  to  take  care  of  the  harness  and  stores,  moved  ofif  towards  a 
rising  ground.  The  priests  and  the  clerks  also  ascended  a  hill, 
there  to  ofifer  up  prayers  to  God,  and  watch  the  event  of  the 
battle. 

"  The  English  stood  firm  on  foot  in  close  ranks,  and  carried 
themselves  right  boldly.  Each  man  had  his  hauberk  on,  with 
his  sword  girt,  and  his  shield  at  his  neck.  Great  hatchets  were 
also  slung  at  their  necks,  with  which  they  expected  to  strike 
heavy  blows. 

"  The  Normans  brought  on  the  three  divisions  of  their  army 
to  attack  at  different  places.  They  set  out  in  three  companies, 
and  in  three  companies  did  they  fight.  The  first  and  second 
had  come  up,  and  then  advanced  the  third,  which  was  the  great- 
est ;  with  that  came  the  duke  with  his  own  men,  and  all  moved 
boldly  forward. 

"  As  soon  as  the  two  armies  were  in  full  view  of  each  other, 
great  noise  and  tumult  arose.      You  might  hear  the  sound  of 


192 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


many  trumpets,  of  bugles,  and  of  horns ;  and  then  you  might 
see  men  ranging  themselves  in  line,  lifting  their  shields,  raising 
their  lances,  bending  their  bows,  handling  their  arrows,  ready 
for  assault  and  defense. 

"  The  English  stood  ready  to  their  post,  the  Normans  still 
moved  on ;  and  when  they  drew  near,  the  English  were  to  be 
seen  stirring  to  and  fro ;  were  going  and  coming ;  troops  rang- 
ing themselves  in  order ;  some  with  their  color  rising,  others 
turning  pale ;  some  making  ready  their  arms,  others  raising 
their  shields ;  the  brave  man  rousing  himself  to  fight,  the  cow- 
ard trembling  at  the  approach  of  danger. 

"  Then  Taillefer,  who  sang  right  well,  rode,  mounted  on  a 
swift  horse,  before  the  duke,  singing  of  Charlemagne  and  of 
Roland,  of  Oliver,  and  the  peers  who  died  in  Roncesvalles. 
And  when  they  drew  nigh  to  the  English, '  A  boon,  sire !  '  cried 
Taillefer ; '  I  have  long  served  you,  and  you  owe  me  for  all  such 
service.  To-day,  so  please  you,  you  shall  repay  it.  I  ask  as 
my  guerdon,  and  beseech  you  for  it  earnestly,  that  you  will 
allow  me  to  strike  the  first  blow  in  the  battle ! '  And  the  duke 
answered,  *  I  grant  it.'  Then  Taillefer  put  his  horse  to  a  gal- 
lop, charging  before  all  the  rest,  and  struck  an  Englishman 
dead,  driving  his  lance  below  the  breast  into  his  body,  and 
stretching  him  upon  the  ground.  Then  he  drew  his  sword, 
and  struck  another,  crying  out,  '  Come  on,  come  on !  What 
do  ye,  sirs  ?  Lay  on,  lay  on ! '  At  the  second  blow  he  struck, 
the  English  pushed  forward,  and  surrounded,  and  slew  him. 
Forthwith  arose  the  noise  and  cry  of  Vk^ar,  and  on  either  side  the 
people  put  themselves  in  motion. 

"  The  Normans  moved  on  to  the  assault,  and  the  English 
defended  themselves  well.  Some  were  striking,  others  urging 
onward ;  all  were  bold,  and  cast  aside  fear.  And  now,  behold, 
that  battle  was  gathered  whereof  the  fame  is  yet  mighty. 

"  Loud  and  far  resounded  the  bray  of  the  horns ;  and  the 
shocks  of  the  lances,  the  mighty  strokes  of  maces,  and  the 
quick  clashing  of  swords.  One  while  the  Englishmen  rushed 
on,  another  while  they  fell  back ;  one  while  the  men  from  over 
sea  charged  onward,  and  again  at  other  times  retreated.  The 
Normans  shouted  Dex  Aie,  the  English  people  Out.  Then 
came  the  cunning  manoeuvres,  the  rude  shocks  and  strokes  of 
the  lance  and  blows  of  the  swords,  among  the  sergeants  and 
soldiers,  both  English  and  Norman. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  193 

"  When  the  EngUsh  fall  the  Normans  shout.  Each  side 
taunts  and  defies  the  other,  yet  neither  knoweth  what  the  other 
saith ;  and  the  Normans  say  the  English  bark,  because  they 
understand  not  their  speech. 

"  Some  wax  strong,  others  weak :  the  brave  exult,  but  the 
cowards  tremble,  as  men  who  are  sore  dismayed.  The  Nor- 
mans press  on  the  assault,  and  the  English  defend  their  post 
well ;  they  pierce  the  hauberks,  and  cleave  the  shields,  receive 
and  return  mighty  blows.  Again,  some  press  forward,  others 
yield ;  and  thus,  in  various  ways,  the  struggle  proceeds.  In 
the  plain  was  a  fosse,  which  the  Normans  had  now  behind 
them,  having  passed  it  in  the  fight  without  regarding  it.  But 
the  English  charged  and  drove  the  Normans  before  them  till 
they  made  them  fall  back  upon  this  fosse,  overthrowing  into  it 
horses  and  men.  Many  were  to  be  seen  falling  therein,  rolling 
one  over  the  other,  with  their  faces  to  the  earth,  and  unable  to 
rise.  Many  of  the  English,  also,  whom  the  Normans  drew 
down  along  with  them,  died  there.  At  no  time  during  the  day's 
battle  did  so  many  Normans  die  as  perished  in  that  fosse.  So 
those  said  who  saw  the  dead. 

"  The  varlets  who  were  set  to  guard  the  harness  began  to 
abandon  it  as  they  saw  the  loss  of  the  Frenchmen,  when  thrown 
back  upon  the  fosse  without  power  to  recover  themselves. 
Being  greatly  alarmed  at  seeing  the  difficulty  in  restoring  order, 
they  began  to  quit  the  harness,  and  sought  around,  not 
knowing  where  to  find  shelter.  Then  Duke  William's  brother, 
Odo,  the  good  priest,  the  Bishop  of  Bayeux,  galloped  up, 
and  said  to  them,  '  Stand  fast !  Stand  fast !  Be  quiet  and 
move  not !  fear  nothing ;  for,  if  God  please,  we  shall  con- 
quer yet.'  So  they  took  courage,  and  rested  where  they  were ; 
and  Odo  returned  galloping  back  to  where  the  battle  was  most 
fierce,  and  was  of  great  service  on  that  day.  He  had  put  a 
hauberk  on  over  a  white  aube,  wide  in  the  body,  with  the  sleeve 
tight,  and  sat  on  a  white  horse,  so  that  all  might  recognize  him. 
In  his  hand  he  held  a  mace,  and  wherever  he  saw  most  need  he 
held  up  and  stationed  the  knights,  and  often  urged  them  on  to 
assault  and  strike  the  enemy. 

"  From  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  the  combat  be- 
gan, till  three  o'clock  came,  the  battle  was  up  and  down,  this 
way  and  that,  and  no  one  knew  who  would  conquer  and  win  the 
land.  Both  sides  stood  so  firm  and  fought  so  well,  that  no  one 
13 


194  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

could  g-uess  which  would  prevail.  The  Norman  archers  with 
their  bows  shot  thickly  upon  the  English;  but  they  covered 
themselves  with  their  shields,  so  that  the  arrows  could  not  reach 
their  bodies,  nor  do  any  mischief,  how  true  soever  was  their 
aim,  or  however  well  they  shot.  Then  the  Normans  deter- 
mined to  shoot  their  arrows  upward  into  the  air,  so  that  they 
might  fall  on  their  enemies'  heads,  and  strike  their  faces.  The 
archers  adopted  this  scheme,  and  shot  up  into  the  air  towards 
the  English ;  and  the  arrows,  in  falling,  struck  their  heads  and 
faces,  and  put  out  the  eyes  of  many  ;  and  all  feared  to  open  their 
eyes,  or  leave  their  faces  unguarded. 

"  The  arrows  now  flew  thicker  than  rain  before  the  wind ; 
fast  sped  the  shafts  that  the  English  called  '  wibetes.'  Then  it 
was  that  an  arrow,  that  had  been  thus  shot  upward,  struck 
Harold  above  his  right  eye,  and  put  it  out.  In  his  agony  he 
drew  the  arrow  and  threw  it  away,  breaking  it  with  his  hands ; 
and  the  pain  to  his  head  was  so  great  that  he  leaned  upon  his 
shield.  So  the  English  were  wont  to  say,  and  still  say  to  the 
French,  that  the  arrow  was  well  shot  which  was  so  sent  up 
against  their  king,  and  that  the  archer  won  them  great  glory 
who  thus  put  out  Harold's  eye. 

"  The  Normans  saw  that  the  English  defended  themselves 
well,  and  were  so  strong  in  their  position  that  they  could  do 
little  against  them.  So  they  consulted  together  privily,  and 
arranged  to  draw  ofif,  and  pretend  to  flee,  till  the  English  should 
pursue  and  scatter  themselves  over  the  field ;  for  they  saw  that, 
if  they  could  once  get  their  enemies  to  break  their  ranks,  they 
might  be  attacked  and  discomfited  much  more  easily.  As  they 
had  said,  so  they  did.  The  Normans  by  little  and  little  fled,  the 
English  following  them.  As  the  one  fell  back,  the  other 
pressed  after ;  and,  when  the  Frenchmen  retreated,  the  English 
thought  and  cried  out  that  the  men  of  France  fled,  and  would 
never  return. 

"  Thus  they  were  deceived  by  the  pretended  flight,  and  great 
mischief  thereby  befell  them  ;  for,  if  they  had  not  moved  from 
their  position,  it  is  not  likely  that  they  would  have  been  con- 
quered at  all ;  but,  like  fools,  they  broke  their  lines  and  pursued. 

"  The  Normans  were  to  be  seen  following  up  their  strata- 
gem, retreating  slowly  so  as  to  draw  the  English  farther  on. 
As  they  still  flee,  the  English  pursue ;  they  push  out  their  lances 
and  stretch  forth  their  hatchets ;  following  the  Normans  as  they 


THE    BATTLE   OF    HASTINGS  195 

go,  rejoicing  in  the  success  of  their  scheme,  and  scattering 
themselves  over  the  plain.  And  the  English  meantime  jeered 
and  insulted  their  foes  with  words.  '  Cowards,'  they  cried, 
*  you  came  hither  in  an  evil  hour,  wanting  our  lands,  and  seek- 
ing to  seize  our  property,  fools  that  ye  were  to  come !  Nor- 
mandy is  too  far  off,  and  you  will  not  easily  reach  it.  It  is  of 
little  use  to  run  back ;  unless  you  can  cross  the  sea  at  a  leap,  or 
can  drink  it  dry,  your  sons  and  daughters  are  lost  to  you.' 

"  The  Normans  bore  it  all ;  but,  in  fact,  they  knew  not  what 
the  English  said :  their  language  seemed  like  the  baying  of 
dogs,  which  they  could  not  understand.  At  length,  they 
stopped  and  turned  round,  determined  to  recover  their  ranks ; 
and  the  barons  might  be  heard  crying  Dex  Aie !  for  a  halt.  Then 
the  Normans  resumed  their  former  position,  turning  their  faces 
towards  the  enemy ;  and  their  men  were  to  be  seen  facing  round 
and  rushing  onward  to  a  fresh  melee,  the  one  party  assaulting 
the  other;  this  man  striking,  another  pressing  onward.  One 
hits,  another  misses ;  one  flies,  another  pursues ;  one  is  aiming 
a  stroke,  while  another  discharges  his  blow.  Norman  strives 
with  Englishman  again,  and  aims  his  blows  afresh.  One  flies, 
another  pursues  swiftly :  the  combatants  are  many,  the  plain 
wide,  the  battle  and  the  melee  fierce.  On  every  hand  they  fight 
hard,  the  blows  are  heavy,  and  the  struggle  becomes  fierce, 

"  The  Normans  were  playing  their  part  well,  when  an  Eng- 
lish knight  came  rushing  up,  having  in  his  company  a  hundred 
men,  furnished  with  various  arms.  He  wielded  a  northern 
hatchet,  with  the  blade  a  full  foot  long,  and  was  well  armed 
after  his  manner,  being  tall,  bold,  and  of  noble  carriage.  In 
the  front  of  the  battle,  where  the  Normans  thronged  most,  he 
came  bounding  on  swifter  than  the  stag,  many  Normans  falling 
before  him  and  his  company.  He  rushed  straight  upon  a  Nor- 
man who  was  armed  and  riding  on  a  war-horse,  and  tried  with 
his  hatchet  of  steel  to  cleave  his  helmet ;  but  the  blow  miscar- 
ried, and  the  sharp  blade  glanced  down  before  the  saddle-bow, 
driving  through  the  horse's  neck  down  to  the  ground,  so  that 
both  horse  and  master  fell  together  to  the  earth.  I  know  not 
whether  the  Englishman  struck  another  blow ;  but  the  Nor- 
mans who  saw  the  stroke  were  astonished,  and  about  to  aban- 
don the  assault,  when  Roger  de  Montgomeri  came  galloping 
up,  with  his  lance  set,  and  heeding  not  the  long-handled  ax 
which  the  Englishman  wielded  aloft,  struck  him  down,  and  left 


196  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

him  stretched  on  the  ground.  Then  Roger  cried  out, '  French- 
men, strike !  The  day  is  ours !'  And  again  a  fierce  mclec  was 
to  be  seen,  with  many  a  blow  of  lance  and  sword ;  the  English 
still  defending  themselves,  killing  the  horses  and  cleaving  the 
shields. 

"  There  was  a  French  soldier  of  noble  mien,  who  sat  his  horse 
gallantly.  He  spied  two  Englishmen  who  were  also  carrying 
themselves  boldly.  They  were  both  men  of  great  worth,  and 
had  become  companions  in  arms  and  fought  together,  the  one 
protecting  the  other.  They  bore  two  long  and  broad  bills,  and 
did  great  mischief  to  the  Normans,  killing  both  horses  and 
men.  The  French  soldier  looked  at  them  and  their  bills,  and 
was  sore  alarmed,  for  he  was  afraid  of  losing  his  good  horse, 
the  best  that  he  had,  and  would  willingly  have  turned  to  some 
other  quarter,  if  it  would  not  have  looked  like  cowardice.  He 
soon,  however,  recovered  his  courage,  and,  spurring  his  horse, 
gave  him  the  bridle,  he  raised  his  shield,  and  struck  one  of  the 
Englishmen  with  his  lance  on  the  breast,  so  that  the  iron  passed 
out  at  his  back.  At  the  moment  that  he  fell,  the  lance  broke, 
and  the  Frenchman  seized  the  mace  that  hung  at  his  right  side, 
and  struck  the  other  Englishman  a  blow  that  completely  frac- 
tured his  skull. 

"  On  the  other  side  was  an  Englishman  who  much  annoyed 
the  French,  continually  assaulting  them  with  a  keen-edged 
hatchet.  He  had  a  helmet  made  of  wood,  which  he  had  fast- 
ened down  to  his  coat,  and  laced  round  his  neck,  so  that  no 
blows  could  reach  his  head.  The  ravage  he  was  making  was 
seen  by  a  gallant  Norman  knight,  who  rode  a  horse  that  neither 
fire  nor  water  could  stop  in  its  career,  when  its  master  urged  it 
on.  The  knight  spurred,  and  his  horse  carried  him  on  well  till 
he  charged  the  Englishman,  striking  him  over  the  helmet,  so 
that  it  fell  down  over  his  eyes ;  and,  as  he  stretched  out  his  hand 
to  raise  it  and  uncover  his  face,  the  Norman  cut  ofif  his  right 
hand,  so  that  his  hatchet  fell  to  the  ground.  Another  Norman 
sprang  forward  and  eagerly  seized  the  prize  with  both  his 
hands,  but  he  kept  it  little  space,  and  paid  dearly  for  it,  for,  as 
he  stooped  to  pick  up  the  hatchet,  an  Englishman  with  his 
long-handled  ax  struck  him  over  the  back,  breaking  all  his 
bones,  so  that  his  entrails  and  lungs  gushed  forth.  The  knight 
of  the  good  horse  meantime  returned  without  injury ;  but  on 
his  way  he  met  another  Englishman  and  bore  him  down  under 


THE   BATTLE   OF   HASTINGS 


197 


his  horse,  wounding  him  grievously  and  trampling  him  alto- 
gether under  foot. 

"  And  now  might  be  heard  the  loud  clang  and  cry  of  battle, 
and  the  clashing  of  lances.  The  English  stood  firm  in  their 
barricades,  and  shivered  the  lances,  beating  them  into  pieces 
with  their  bills  and  maces.  The  Normans  drew  their  swords 
and  hewed  down  the  barricades,  and  the  English,  in  great 
trouble,  fell  back  upon  their  standard,  where  were  collected  the 
maimed  and  wounded. 

"  There  were  many  knights  of  Chauz  who  jousted  and  made 
attacks.  The  English  knew  not  how  to  joust,  or  bear  arms  on 
horseback,  but  fought  with  hatchets  and  bills.  A  man,  when 
he  wanted  to  strike  with  one  of  their  hatchets,  was  obliged  to 
hold  it  with  both  his  hands,  and  could  not  at  the  same  time,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  both  cover  himself  and  strike  with  any  freedom. 

"  The  English  fell  back  towards  the  standard,  which  was 
upon  a  rising  ground,  and  the  Normans  followed  them  across 
the  valley,  attacking  them  on  foot  and  horseback.  Then  Hue 
de  Mortemer,  with  the  Sires  D'Auviler,  D'Onebac,  and  Saint 
Cler,  rode  up  and  charged,  overthrowing  many. 

"  Robert  Fitz  Erneis  fixed  his  lance,  took  his  shield,  and  gal- 
loping towards  the  standard,  with  his  keen-edged  sword  struck 
an  Englishman  who  was  in  front,  killed  him,  and  then,  drawing 
back  his  sword,  attacked  many  others,  and  pushed  straight  for 
the  standard,  trying  to  beat  it  down ;  but  the  English  sur- 
rounded it  and  killed  him  with  their  bills.  He  was  found  on 
the  spot,  when  they  afterwards  sought  for  him,  dead  and  lying 
at  the  standard's  foot. 

"  Duke  William  pressed  upon  the  English  with  his  lance 
striving  hard  to  reach  the  standard  with  the  great  troop  he  led 
and  seeking  earnestly  for  Harold,  on  whose  account  the  whole 
war  was.  The  Normans  follow  their  lord,  and  press  around 
him,  they  ply  their  blows  upon  the  English ;  and  these  defend 
themselves  stoutly,  striving  hard  with  their  enemies,  returning 
blow  for  blow. 

"  One  of  them  was  a  man  of  great  strength,  a  wrestler,  who 
did  great  mischief  to  the  Normans  with  his  hatchet ;  all  feared 
him,  for  he  struck  down  a  great  many  Normans.  The  Duke 
spurred  on  his  horse,  and  aimed  a  blow  at  him,  but  he  stooped, 
and  so  escaped  the  stroke ;  then,  jumping  on  one  side,  he  lifted 
his  hatchet  aloft,  and,  as  the  duke  bent  to  avoid  the  blow,  the 


198  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Englishman  boldly  struck  him  on  the  head,  and  beat  in  his 
helmet,  though  without  doing  much  injury.  He  was  very  near 
falling,  however;  but,  bearing  on  his  stirrups,  he  recovered 
himself  immediately ;  and,  when  he  thought  to  have  revenged 
himself  upon  the  churl  by  killing  him,  he  had  escaped,  dread- 
ing the  duke's  blow.  He  ran  back  in  among  the  English,  but 
he  was  not  safe  even  there ;  for  the  Normans  seeing  him,  pur- 
sued and  caught  him,  and,  having  pierced  him  through  and 
through  with  their  lances,  left  him  dead  on  the  ground. 

"  Where  the  throng  of  the  battle  was  greatest,  the  men  of 
Kent  and  Essex  fought  wondrously  well,  and  made  the  Nor- 
mans again  retreat,  but  without  doing  them  much  injury.  And 
when  the  duke  saw  his  men  fall  back  and  the  English  triumph- 
ing over  them,  his  spirit  rose  high,  and  he  seized  his  shield  and 
his  lance,  which  a  vassal  handed  to  him,  and  took  his  post  by 
his  standard. 

"  Then  those  who  kept  close  guard  by  him,  and  rode  where  he 
rode,  being  about  a  thousand  armed  men,  came  and  rushed 
with  closed  ranks  upon  the  English ;  and  with  the  weight  of 
their  good  horses,  and  the  blows  the  knights  gave,  broke  the 
press  of  the  enemy,  and  scattered  the  crowd  before  them,  the 
good  duke  leading  them  on  in  front.  Many  pursued  and  many 
fled ;  many  were  the  Englishmen  who  fell  around,  and  were 
trampled  under  the  horses,  crawling  upon  the  earth,  and  not 
able  to  rise.  Many  of  the  richest  and  noblest  men  fell  in  the 
rout,  but  still  the  English  rallied  in  places,  smote  down  those 
whom  they  reached,  and  maintained  the  combat  the  best  they 
could,  beating  down  the  men  and  killing  the  horses.  One  Eng- 
lishman watched  the  duke,  and  plotted  to  kill  him ;  he  would 
have  struck  him  with  his  lance,  but  he  could  not,  for  the  duke 
struck  him  first,  and  felled  him  to  the  earth. 

"  Loud  was  now  the  clamor,  and  great  the  slaughter ;  many 
a  soul  then  quitted  the  body  it  inhabited.  The  living  marched 
over  the  heaps  of  dead,  and  each  side  was  weary  of  striking. 
He  charged  on  who  could,  and  he  who  could  no  longer  strike 
still  pushed  forward.  The  strong  struggled  with  the  strong; 
some  failed,  others  triumphed ;  the  cowards  fell  back,  the  brave 
pressed  on ;  and  sad  was  his  fate  who  fell  in  the  midst,  for  he 
had  little  chance  of  rising  again  ;  and  many  in  truth  fell  who 
never  rose  at  all,  being  crushed  under  the  throng. 

"  And  now  the  Normans  had  pressed  on  so  far,  that  at  last 


THE   BATTLE   OF   HASTINGS  199 

they  had  reached  the  standard.  There  Harold  had  remained, 
defending  himself  to  the  utmost ;  but  he  was  sorely  wounded  in 
his  eye  by  the  arrow,  and  suffered  grievous  pain  from  the  blow. 
An  armed  man  came  in  the  throng  of  the  battle,  and  struck 
him  on  the  ventaille  of  his  helmet,  and  beat  him  to  the  ground ; 
and  as  he  sought  to  recover  himself  a  knight  beat  him  down 
again,  striking  him  on  the  thick  of  his  thigh,  down  to  the  bone. 

"  Gurth  saw  the  English  falling  around,  and  that  there  was 
no  remedy.  He  saw  his  race  hastening  to  ruin,  and  despaired 
of  any  aid ;  he  would  have  fled,  but  could  not,  for  the  throng 
continually  increased.  And  the  duke  pushed  on  till  he  reached 
him,  and  struck  him  with  great  force.  Whether  he  died  of  that 
blow  I  know  not,  but  it  was  said  that  he  fell  under  it,  and  rose 
no  more. 

"  The  standard  was  beaten  down,  the  golden  standard  was 
taken,  and  Harold  and  the  best  of  his  friends  were  slain ;  but 
there  was  so  much  eagerness,  and  throng  of  so  many  around, 
seeking  to  kill  him,  that  I  know  not  who  it  was  that  slew  him. 

"  The  English  were  in  great  trouble  at  having  lost  their  king, 
and  at  the  duke's  having  conquered  and  beat  down  the  stand- 
ard ;  but  they  still  fought  on,  and  defended  themselves  long, 
and,  in  fact,  till  the  day  drew  to  a  close.  Then  it  clearly  ap- 
peared to  all  that  the  standard  was  lost,  and  the  news  had 
spread  throughout  the  army  that  Harold,  for  certain,  was  dead ; 
and  all  saw  that  there  was  no  longer  any  hope,  so  they  left  the 
field,  and  those  fled  who  could. 

"  William  fought  well ;  many  an  assault  did  he  lead,  many  a 
blow  did  he  give,  and  many  receive,  and  many  fell  dead  under 
his  hand.  Two  horses  were  killed  under  him,  and  he  took  a 
third  when  necessary,  so  that  he  fell  not  to  the  ground,  and  lost 
not  a  drop  of  blood.  But,  whatever  any  one  did,  and  whoever 
lived  or  died,  this  is  certain,  that  William  conquered,  and  that 
many  of  the  English  fled  from  the  field,  and  many  died  on  the 
spot.  Then  he  returned  thanks  to  God,  and  in  his  pride  ordered 
his  standard  to  be  brought  and  set  up  on  high,  where  the  Eng- 
lish standard  had  stood ;  and  that  was  the  signal  of  his  having 
conquered,  and  beaten  down  the  standard.  And  he  ordered  his 
tent  to  be  raised  on  the  spot  among  the  dead,  and  had  his  meat 
brought  thither,  and  his  supper  prepared  there. 

"  Then  he  took  off  his  armor;  and  the  barons  and  knights, 
pages  and  squires  came,  when  he  had  unstrung  his  shield ;  and 


200  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

they  took  the  helmet  from  his  head,  and  the  hauberk  from  his 
back,  and  saw  the  heavy  blows  upon  his  shield,  and  how  his 
helmet  was  dinted  in.  And  all  greatly  wondered,  and  said: 
*  Such  a  baron  (ber)  never  bestrode  war-horse,  nor  dealt  such 
blows,  nor  did  such  feats  of  arms ;  neither  has  there  been  on 
earth  such  a  knight  since  Rollant  and  Oliver.' 

"  Thus  they  lauded  and  extolled  him  greatly,  and  rejoiced  in 
what  they  saw,  but  grieving  also  for  their  friends  who  were 
slain  in  the  battle.  And  the  duke  stood  meanwhile  among 
them,  of  noble  stature  and  mien,  and  rendered  thanks  to  the 
King  of  glory,  through  whom  he  had  the  victory ;  and  thanked 
the  knights  around  him,  mourning  also  frequently  for  tlie  dead. 
And  he  ate  and  drank  among  the  dead,  and  made  his  bed  that 
night  upon  the  field. 

"  The  morrow  was  Sunday ;  and  those  who  had  slept  upon 
the  field  of  battle,  keeping  watch  around,  and  suffering  great 
fatigue,  bestirred  themselves  at  break  of  day,  and  sought  out 
and  buried  such  of  the  bodies  of  their  dead  friends  as  they 
might  find.  The  noble  ladies  of  the  land  also  came,  some  to 
seek  their  husbands,  and  others  their  fathers,  sons,  or  brothers. 
They  bore  the  bodies  to  their  villages,  and  interred  them  at  the 
churches  ;  and  the  clerks  and  priests  of  the  country  were  ready, 
and,  at  the  request  of  their  friends,  took  the  bodies  that  were 
found,  and  prepared  graves  and  lay  them  therein. 

"  King  Harold  was  carried  and  buried  at  Varham ;  but  I 
know  not  who  it  was  that  bore  him  thither,  neither  do  I  know 
who  buried  him.  Many  remained  on  the  field,  and  many  had 
Hed  in  the  night." 

Such  is  a  Norman  account  of  the  battle  of  Hastings,*  which 
does  full  justice  to  the  valor  of  the  Saxons,  as  well  as  to  the  skill 
and  bravery  of  the  victors.  It  is,  indeed,  evident  that  the  loss 
of  the  battle  by  the  English  was  owing  to  the  wound  which 
Harold  received  in  the  afternoon,  and  which  must  have  inca- 
pacitated him  from  effective  command.  When  we  remember 
that  he  had  himself  just  won  the  battle  of  Stamford  Bridge  over 
Harald  Hardrada  by  the  manoeuvre  of  a  feigned  flight,  it  is  im- 

*  In  the  preceding  pages  I  have  woven  together  the  "  purpureos 
pannos  "  of  the  old  chronicler.  In  so  doing  I  have  largely  availed  myself 
of  Mr.  Edgar  Taylor's  version  of  that  part  of  the  "  Roman  de  Ron  " 
which  describes  the  conquest.  By  giving  engravings  from  the  Bayeux 
Tapestry  and  by  his  excellent  notes  Mr.  Taylor  has  added  much  to  the 
value  and  interest  of  his  volume. 


THE    BATTLE   OF    HASTINGS  201 

possible  to  suppose  that  he  could  be  deceived  by  the  same 
stratagem  on  the  part  of  the  Normans  at  Hastings.  But  his 
men,  when  deprived  of  his  control,  would  very  naturally  be  led 
by  their  inconsiderate  ardor  into  the  pursuit  that  proved  so 
fatal  to  them.  All  the  narratives  of  the  battle,  however  much 
they  vary  as  to  the  precise  time  and  manner  of  Harold's  fall, 
eulogize  the  generalship  and  the  personal  prowess  which  he 
displayed,  until  the  fatal  arrow  struck  him.  The  skill  with 
which  he  had  posted  his  army  was  proved  both  by  the  slaugh- 
ter which  it  cost  the  Normans  to  force  the  position,  and  also  by 
the  desperate  rally  which  some  of  the  Saxons  made  after  the 
battle  in  the  forest  in  the  rear,  in  which  they  cut  off  a  large 
number  of  the  pursuing  Normans.  This  circumstance  is 
particularly  mentioned  by  William  of  Poitiers,  the  Conquer- 
or's own  chaplain.  Indeed,  if  Harold,  or  either  of  his  brothers, 
had  survived,  the  remains  of  the  English  army  might  have 
formed  again  in  the  wood,  and  could  at  least  have  effected  an 
orderly  retreat,  and  prolonged  the  war.  But  both  Gurth  and 
Leofwine,  and  all  the  bravest  Thanes  of  Southern  England  lay 
dead  on  Senlac,  around  their  fallen  king  and  the  fallen  standard 
of  their  country.  The  exact  number  that  perished  on  the  Sax- 
on's side  is  unknown  ;  but  we  read  that  on  the  side  of  the  victors, 
out  of  sixty  thousand  men  who  had  been  engaged,  no  less  than 
a  fourth  perished.  So  well  had  the  Enghsh  billmen  "  plyed 
the  ghastly  blow,"  and  so  sternly  had  the  Saxon  battle-axe  cloven 
Norman's  casque  and  mail.*  The  old  historian  Daniel  justly, 
as  well  as  forcibly,  remarks:!  "Thus  was  tried,  by  the  great 
assize  of  God's  judgment  in  battle,  the  right  of  power  between 
the  English  and  Norman  nations ;  a  battle  the  most  memorable 
of  all  others ;  and,  however  miserably  lost,  yet  most  nobly 
fought  on  the  part  of  England." 

Many  a  pathetic  legend  was  told  in  after  years  respecting 
the  discovery  and  the  burial  of  the  corpse  of  our  last  Saxon 
king.  The  main  circumstances,  though  they  seem  to  vary,  are 
perhaps  reconcilable. t  Two  of  the  monks  of  Waltham  Abbey, 
which  Harold  had  founded  a  little  time  before  his  election  to 
the  throne,  had  accompanied  him  to  the  battle.     On  the  morn- 

*  The  Conqueror's  Chaplain  calls  the  Saxon  battle-axes  "  Sasvissimse 
secures." 

t  As  cited  in  the  "  Pictorial  History." 

+  See  them  collected  in  Lingard,  i.,  452  et  seq. ;  Thierry,  i.,  299;  Sharon 
on  Turner,  i.,  82;  and  Histoire  de  Normandie,  par  Lieguet,  p.  242. 


202  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

ing  after  the  slaughter,  they  begged  and  gained  permission  of 
the  Conqueror  to  search  for  the  body  of  their  benefactor.  The 
Norman  soldiery  and  camp-followers  had  stripped  and  gashed 
the  slain,  and  the  two  monks  vainly  strove  to  recognize  from 
among  the  mutilated  and  gory  heaps  around  them  the  features 
of  their  former  king.  They  sent  for  Harold's  mistress,  Edith, 
surnamed  "  the  Fair,"  and  "  the  swan-necked,"  to  aid  them. 
The  eye  of  love  proved  keener  than  the  eye  of  gratitude,  and 
the  Saxon  lady  even  in  that  Aceldama  knew  her  Harold. 

The  king's  mother  now  sought  the  victorious  Norman,  and 
begged  the  dead  body  of  her  son.  But  William  at  first  an- 
swered, in  his  wrath  and  the  hardness  of  his  heart,  that  a  man 
who  had  been  false  to  his  word  and  his  religion  should  have  no 
other  sepulchre  than  the  sand  of  the  shore.  He  added,  with  a 
sneer,  "  Harold  mounted  guard  on  the  coast  while  he  was  alive, 
he  may  continue  his  guard  now  he  is  dead."  The  taunt  was 
an  unintentional  eulogy ;  and  a  grave  washed  by  the  spray  of 
the  Sussex  waves  would  have  been  the  noblest  burial-place  for 
the  martyr  of  Saxon  freedom.  But  Harold's  mother  was  ur- 
gent in  her  lamentations  and  her  prayers ;  the  Conqueror  re- 
lented :  like  Achilles,  he  gave  up  the  dead  body  of  his  fallen  foe 
to  a  parent's  supplications,  and  the  remains  of  King  Harold 
were  deposited  with  regal  honors  in  Waltham  Abbey. 

On  Christmas  day  in  the  same  year  William  the  Conqueror 
was  crowned  at  London  King  of  England. 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Hastings,  a.d. 
1066,  AND  Joan  of  Arc's  Victory  at  Orleans,  a.d.  1429. 

A.D.  1066 — 1087.  Reign  of  William  the  Conqueror.  Fre- 
quent risings  of  the  English  against  him,  which  are  quelled  with 
merciless  rigor. 

1096.  The  first  Crusade. 

1112.  Commencement  of  the  disputes  about  investitures  be- 
tween the  emperors  and  the  popes. 

1140.  Foundation  of  the  city  of  Lubec,  whence  originated 
the  Hanseatic  League.  Commencement  of  the  feuds  in  Italy 
between  the  Guelfs  and  the  Ghibellines. 

1146.  The  second  Crusade. 

1154.  Henry  H.  becomes  King  of  England.      Under  him 


THE    BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS  203 

Thomas  a  Becket  is  made  Archbishop  of  Canterbury :  the  first 
instance  of  any  man  of  the  Saxon  race  being  raised  to  high 
office  in  Church  or  State  since  the  Conquest. 

1 170.  Strongbow,  earl  of  Pembroke,  lands  with  an  English 
army  in  Ireland. 

1 189.  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion  becomes  King  of  England. 
He  and  King  Philip  Augustus  of  France  join  in  the  third  Cru- 
sade. 

1 199 — 1204.  On  the  death  of  King  Richard,  his  brother 
John  claims  and  makes  himself  master  of  England  and  Nor- 
mandy, and  the  other  large  continental  possessions  of  the  early 
Plantagenet  princes.  Philip  Augustus  asserts  the  cause  of 
Prince  Arthur,  John's  nephew,  against  him.  Arthur  is  mur- 
dered, but  the  French  king  continues  the  war  against  John,  and 
conquers  from  him  Normandy,  Brittany,  Anjou,  Maine,  Tou- 
raine,  and  Poitiers. 

1215.  The  barons,  the  freeholders,  the  citizens,  and  the  yeo- 
men of  England  rise  against  the  tyranny  of  John  and  his  for- 
eign favorites.  They  compel  him  to  sign  Magna  Charta.  This 
is  the  commencement  of  our  nationality ;  for  our  history  from 
this  time  forth  is  the  history  of  a  national  life,  then  complete 
and  still  in  being.  All  English  history  before  this  period  is  a 
mere  history  of  elements,  of  their  collisions,  and  of  the  processes 
of  their  fusion.  For  upwards  of  a  century  after  the  Conquest, 
Anglo-Norman  and  Anglo-Saxon  had  kept  aloof  from  each 
other :  the  one  in  haughty  scorn,  the  other  in  sullen  abhorrence. 
They  were  two  peoples,  though  living  in  the  same  land.  It  is 
not  until  the  thirteenth  century,  the  period  of  the  reigns  of  John 
and  his  son  and  grandson,  that  we  can  perceive  the  existence  of 
any  feeling  of  common  nationality  among  them.  But  in  study- 
ing the  history  of  these  reigns,  we  read  of  the  old  dissensions 
no  longer.  The  Saxon  no  more  appears  in  civil  war  against 
the  Norman,  the  Norman  no  longer  scorns  the  language  of  the 
Saxon,  or  refuses  to  bear  together  with  him  the  name  of  Eng- 
lishman. No  part  of  the  community  think  themselves  foreign- 
ers to  another  part.  They  feel  that  they  are  all  one  people,  and 
they  have  learned  to  unite  their  efforts  for  the  common  purpose 
of  protecting  the  rights  and  promoting  the  welfare  of  all.  The 
fortunate  loss  of  the  Duchy  of  Normandy  in  John's  reign 
greatly  promoted  these  new  feelings.  Thenceforth  our  barons' 
only  homes  were  in  England.     One  language  had,  in  the  reign 


204  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

of  Henry  III.,  become  the  language  of  the  land,  and  that,  also, 
had  then  assumed  the  form  in  which  we  still  possess  it.  One 
law,  in  the  eye  of  which  all  freemen  are  equal  without  distinc- 
tion of  race,  was  modelled,  and  steadily  enforced,  and  still  con- 
tinues to  form  the  ground-work  of  our  judicial  system.* 

1273.  Rudolph  of  Hapsburg  chosen  Emperor  of  Germany. 

1283.  Edward  I.  conquers  Wales. 

1346.  Edward  III.  invades  France,  and  gains  the  battle  of 
Crecy. 

1356.  Battle  of  Poitiers. 

1360.  Treaty  of  Bretigny  between  England  and  France.  By 
it  Edward  III.  renounces  his  pretensions  to  the  French  crown. 
The  treaty  is  ill  kept,  and  indecisive  hostilities  continue  be- 
tween the  forces  of  the  two  countries. 

1414.  Henry  V.  of  England  claims  the  crown  of  France,  and 
resolves  to  invade  and  conquer  that  kingdom.  At  this  time 
France  was  in  the  most  deplorable  state  of  weakness  and  suf- 
fering, from  the  factions  that  raged  among  her  nobility,  and 
from  the  cruel  oppressions  which  the  rival  nobles  practised  on 
the  mass  of  the  community.  "  The  people  were  exhausted  by 
taxes,  civil  wars,  and  military  executions ;  and  they  had  fallen 
into  that  worst  of  all  states  of  mind,  when  the  independence  of 
one's  country  is  thought  no  longer  a  paramount  and  sacred 
object.  '  What  can  the  English  do  to  us  worse  than  the  thing 
we  suffer  at  the  hands  of  our  own  princes  ?  '  was  a  common  ex- 
clamation among  the  poor  people  of  France."  f 

1415.  Henry  invades  France,  takes  Harfleur,  and  wins  the 
great  battle  of  Agincourt. 

1417 — 1419.  Henry  conquers  Normandy.  The  French  dau- 
phin assassinates  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  most  powerful  of 
the  French  nobles,  at  Montereau.  The  successor  of  the  mur- 
dered duke  becomes  the  active  ally  of  the  English. 

1420.  The  treaty  of  Troyes  is  concluded  between  Henry  V. 
of  England  and  Charles  VI.  of  France,  and  Philip,  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy. By  this  treaty  it  was  stipulated  that  Henry  should 
marry  the  Princess  Catharine  of  France ;  that  King  Charles, 
during  his  lifetime,  should  keep  the  title  and  dignity  of  King  of 
France,  but  that  Henry  should  succeed  him,  and  should  at  once 
be  intrusted  with  the  administration  of  the  government,  and 

*  "  Creasy's  Text-book  of  the  Constitution,"  p.  4. 
t  "  Pictorial  Hist,  of  England,"  vol.  i.,  p.  28. 


THE    BATTLE   OF    HASTINGS  205 

that  the  French  crown  should  descend  to  Henry's  heirs ;  that 
France  and  England  should  forever  be  united  under  one  king, 
but  should  still  retain  their  several  usages,  customs,  and  privi- 
leges ;  that  all  the  princes,  peers,  vassals,  and  communities  of 
France  should  swear  allegiance  to  Henry  as  their  future  king, 
and  should  pay  him  present  obedience  as  regent.  That  Henry 
should  unite  his  arms  to  those  of  King  Charles  and  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy,  in  order  to  subdue  the  adherents  of  Charles,  the 
pretended  dauphin ;  and  that  these  three  princes  should  make 
no  peace  or  truce  with  the  dauphin  but  by  the  common  consent 
of  all  three. 

142 1.  Henry  V.  gains  several  victories  over  the  French,  who 
refuse  to  acknowledge  the  treaty  of  Troyes.  His  son,  after- 
wards Henry  VI.,  is  born, 

1422.  Henry  V.  and  Charles  VI.  of  France  die.  Henry  VI. 
is  proclaimed  at  Paris  King  of  England  and  France.  The  fol- 
lowers of  the  French  dauphin  proclaim  him  Charles  VII.,  king 
of  France.  The  Duke  of  Bedford,  the  English  regent  in 
France,  defeats  the  army  of  the  dauphin  at  Crevant. 

1424.  The  Duke  of  Bedford  gains  the  great  victory  of  Ver- 
neuil  over  the  French  partisans  of  the  dauphin  and  their  Scotch 
auxiliaries. 

1428.  The  English  begin  the  siege  of  Orleans. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

JOAN   OF   ARC'S   VICTORY   OVER   THE   ENGLISH 
AT  ORLEANS,  A.D.   1429. 

"  The  eyes  of  all  Europe  were  turned  towards  this  scene,  where  it  was 
reasonably  supposed  the  French  were  to  make  their  last  stand  for  main- 
taining the  independence  of  their  monarchy  and  the  rights  of  their 
sovereign." — Hume. 

WHEN,  after  their  victory  at  Salamis,  the  g-enerals  of  the 
various  Greek  states  voted  the  prizes  for  distin- 
guished individual  merit,  each  assigned  the  first 
place  of  excellence  to  himself,  but  they  all  concurred  in  giving 
their  second  votes  to  Themistocles.*  This  was  looked  on  as  a 
decisive  proof  that  Themistocles  ought  to  be  ranked  first  of  all. 
If  we  were  to  endeavor,  by  a  similar  test,  to  ascertain  which 
European  nation  had  contributed  the  most  to  the  progress  of 
European  civilization,  we  should  find  Italy,  Germany,  Eng- 
land, and  Spain  each  claiming  the  first  degree,  but  each  also 
naming  France  as  clearly  next  in  merit.  It  is  impossible  to 
deny  her  paramount  importance  in  history.  Besides  the  for- 
midable part  that  she  has  for  nearly  three  centuries  played,  as 
the  Bellona  of  the  European  commonwealth  of  states,  her  influ- 
ence during  all  this  period  over  the  arts,  the  literature,  the  man- 
ners, and  the  feelings  of  mankind,  has  been  such  as  to  make  the 
crisis  of  her  earlier  fortunes  a  point  of  world-wide  interest ;  and 
it  may  be  asserted,  without  exaggeration,  that  the  future  career 
of  every  nation  was  involved  in  the  result  of  the  struggle  by 
which  the  unconscious  heroine  of  France,  in  the  beginning  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  rescued  her  country  from  becoming  a  sec- 
ond Ireland  under  the  yoke  of  the  triumphant  English. 

Seldom  has  the  extinction  of  a  nation's  independence  ap- 
peared more  inevitable  than  was  the  case  in  France  when  the 
English  invaders  completed  their  lines  round  Orleans,  four 

*  Plutarch,  Vit.  Them.,  17. 
206 


JOAN    OF    ARC'S    VICTORY  207 

hundred  and  twenty-two  years  ago.  A  series  of  dreadful  de- 
feats had  thinned  the  chivalry  of  France,  and  daunted  the 
spirits  of  her  soldiers.  A  foreign  king  had  been  proclaimed  in 
her  capital ;  and  foreign  armies  of  the  bravest  veterans,  and  led 
by  the  ablest  captains  then  known  in  the  world,  occupied  the 
fairest  portions  of  her  territory.  Worse  to  her,  even,  than  the 
fierceness  and  the  strength  of  her  foes,  were  the  factions,  the 
vices,  and  the  crimes  of  her  own  children.  Her  native  prince 
was  a  dissolute  trifler,  stained  with  the  assassination  of  the  most 
powerful  noble  of  the  land,  whose  son,  in  revenge,  had  leagued 
himself  with  the  enemy.  Many  more  of  her  nobility,  many  of 
her  prelates,  her  magistrates,  and  rulers,  had  sworn  fealty  to 
the  English  king.  The  condition  of  the  peasantry  amid  the 
general  prevalence  of  anarchy  and  brigandage,  which  were 
added  to  the  customary  devastations  of  contending  armies,  was 
wretched  beyond  the  power  of  language  to  describe.  The 
sense  of  terror  and  wretchedness  seemed  to  have  extended  itself 
even  to  the  brute  creation. 

"  In  sooth,  the  estate  of  France  was  then  most  miserable. 
There  appeared  nothing  but  a  horrible  face,  confusion,  poverty, 
desolation,  solitarinesse,  and  feare.  The  lean  and  bare  labor- 
ers in  the  country  did  terrific  even  theeves  themselves,  who  had 
nothing  left  them  to  spoile  but  the  carkasses  of  these  poore  mis- 
erable creatures,  wandering  up  and  down  like  ghostes  drawne 
out  of  their  graves.  The  least  farmes  and  hamlets  were  forti- 
fied by  these  robbers,  English,  Bourguegnons,  and  French, 
every  one  striving  to  do  his  worst :  all  men-of-war  were  well 
agreed  to  spoile  the  countryman  and  merchant.  Even  the 
caffell,  accustomed  to  the  lariune  hell,  the  signe  of  the  enemy's 
approach,  zvould  run  home  of  themselves  zvithout  any  guide  by 
this  accustomed  misery."* 

In  the  autumn  of  1428,  the  English,  who  were  already  mas- 
ters of  all  France  north  of  the  Loire,  prepared  their  forces  for 
the  conquest  of  the  southern  provinces,  which  yet  adhered  to 
the  cause  of  the  dauphin.  The  city  of  Orleans,  on  the  banks 
of  that  river,  was  looked  upon  as  the  last  stronghold  of  the 
French  national  party.  If  the  English  could  once  obtain  pos- 
session of  it,  their  victorious  progress  through  the  residue  of  the 
kingdom  seemed  free  from  any  serious  obstacle.  Accordingly, 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  one  of  the  bravest  and  most  experienced 
*  De  Serres,  quoted  in  the  Notes  to  Southey's  "  Joan  of  Arc." 


2o8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

of  the  English  generals,  who  had  been  trained  under  Henry  V., 
marched  to  the  attack  of  the  all-important  city ;  and,  after  re- 
ducing several  places  of  inferior  consequence  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, appeared  with  his  army  before  its  walls  on  the  12th  of 
October,  1428. 

The  city  of  Orleans  itself  was  on  the  north  side  of  the  Loire, 
but  its  suburbs  extended  far  on  the  southern  side,  and  a  strong 
bridge  connected  them  with  the  town.  A  fortification,  which  in 
modern  military  phrase  would  be  termed  a  tete-du-pont,  de- 
fended the  bridge  head  on  the  southern  side,  and  two  towers, 
called  the  Tourelles,  were  built  on  the  bridge  itself,  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  tete-du-pont.  Indeed,  the  solid  masonry  of 
the  bridge  terminated  at  the  Tourelles  ;  and  the  communication 
thence  with  the  tete-du-pont  and  the  southern  shore  was  by 
means  of  a  draw-bridge.  The  Tourelles  and  the  tete-du-pont 
formed  together  a  strong-fortified  post,  capable  of  containing 
a  garrison  of  considerable  strength ;  and  so  long  as  this  was  in 
possession  of  the  Orleannais,  they  could  communicate  freely 
with  the  southern  provinces,  the  inhabitants  of  which,  like  the 
Orleannais  themselves,  supported  the  cause  of  their  dauphin 
against  the  foreigners.  Lord  Salisbury  rightly  judged  the 
capture  of  the  Tourelles  to  be  the  most  material  step  towards 
the  reduction  of  the  city  itself.  Accordingly,  he  directed  his 
principal  operations  against  this  post,  and  after  some  severe 
repulses  he  carried  the  Tourelles  by  storm  on  the  23d  of  Octo- 
ber. The  French,  however,  broke  down  the  arches  of  the 
bridge  that  were  nearest  to  the  north  bank,  and  thus  rendered 
a  direct  assault  from  the  Tourelles  upon  the  city  impossible. 
But  the  possession  of  this  post  enabled  the  English  to  distress 
the  town  greatly  by  a  battery  of  cannon  which  they  planted 
there,  and  which  commanded  some  of  the  principal  streets. 

It  has  been  observed  by  Hume  that  this  is  the  first  siege  in 
which  any  important  use  appears  to  have  been  made  of  artil- 
lery. And  even  at  Orleans  both  besiegers  and  besieged  seem 
to  have  employed  their  cannons  merely  as  instruments  of  de- 
struction against  their  enemy's  men,  and  not  to  have  trusted  to 
them  as  engines  of  demolition  against  their  enemy's  walls  and 
works.  The  efficacy  of  cannon  in  breaching  solid  masonry 
was  taught  Europe  by  the  Turks  a  few  years  afterwards,  at  the 
memorable  siege  of  Constantinople.*     In  our  French  wars,  as 

*  The  occasional  employment  of  artillery  against  slight  defences,  as  at 
Jargeau  in  1429,  is  no  real  exception. 


JOAN    OF    ARC'S    VICTORY  209 

in  the  wars  of  the  classic  nations,  famine  was  looked  on  as  the 
surest  weapon  to  compel  the  submission  of  a  well-walled  town  ; 
and  the  great  object  of  the  besiegers  was  to  effect  a  complete 
circumvallation.  The  great  ambit  of  the  walls  of  Orleans,  and 
the  facilities  which  the  river  gave  for  obtaining  succors  and 
supplies,  rendered  the  capture  of  the  town  by  this  process  a 
matter  of  great  difficulty.  Nevertheless,  Lord  Salisbury,  and 
Lord  Suffolk,  who  succeeded  him  in  command  of  the  English 
after  his  death  by  a  cannon  ball,  carried  on  the  necessary  works 
with  great  skill  and  resolution.  Six  strongly-fortified  posts, 
called  bastilles,  were  formed  at  certain  intervals  round  the 
town,  and  the  purpose  of  the  English  engineers  was  to  draw 
strong  lines  between  them.  During  the  winter,  little  prog- 
ress was  made  with  the  intrenchments,  but,  when  the  spring  of 
1429  came,  the  English  resumed  their  work,  with  activity ;  the 
communications  between  the  city  and  the  country  became 
more  difficult,  and  the  approach  of  want  began  already  to  be 
felt  in  Orleans. 

The  besieging  force  also  fared  hardly  for  stores  and  pro- 
visions, until  relieved  by  the  effects  of  a  brilliant  victory  which 
Sir  John  Fastolfe,  one  of  the  best  English  generals,  gained  at 
Rouvrai,  near  Orleans,  a  few  days  after  Ash  Wednesday,  1429. 
With  only  sixteen  hundred  fighting  men.  Sir  John  completely 
defeated  an  army  of  French  and  Scots,  four  thousand  strong, 
which  had  been  collected  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the  Orlean- 
nais  and  harassing  the  besiegers.  After  this  encounter,  which 
seemed  decisively  to  confirm  the  superiority  of  the  English  in 
battle  over  their  adversaries,  Fastolfe  escorted  large  supplies  of 
stores  and  food  to  Suffolk's  camp,  and  the  spirits  of  the  Eng- 
lish rose  to  the  highest  pitch  at  the  prospect  of  the  speedy  cap- 
ture of  the  city  before  them,  and  the  consequent  subjection  of 
all  France  beneath  their  arms. 

The  Orleannais  now,  in  their  distress,  offered  to  surrender 
the  city  into  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who,  though 
the  ally  of  the  English,  was  yet  one  of  their  native  princes.  The 
Regent  Bedford  refused  these  terms,  and  the  speedy  submis- 
sion of  the  city  to  the  English  seemed  inevitable.  The  Dau- 
phin Charles,  who  was  now  at  Chinon  with  his  remnant  of  a 
court,  despaired  of  continuing  any  longer  the  struggle  for  his 
crown,  and  was  only  prevented  from  abandoning  the  country 
by  the  more  masculine  spirits  of  his  mistress  and  his  queen. 
14 


2IO  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Yet  neither  they,  nor  the  boldest  of  Charles'  captains,  could 
have  shown  him  where  to  find  resources  for  prolonging  war ; 
and  least  of  all  could  any  human  skill  have  predicted  the  quar- 
ter whence  rescue  was  to  come  to  Orleans  and  to  France. 

In  the  village  of  Domremy,  on  the  borders  of  Lorraine,  there 
was  a  poor  peasant  of  the  name  of  Jacques  d'Arc,  respected  in 
his  station  of  life,  and  who  had  reared  a  family  in  virtuous 
habits  and  in  the  practice  of  the  strictest  devotion.  His  eldest 
daughter  was  named  by  her  parents  Jannette,  but  she  was  called 
Jeanne  by  the  French,  which  was  Latinized  mto  Johanna,  and 
AngHcized  into  Joan.* 

At  the  time  when  Joan  first  attracted  attention,  she  was  about 
eighteen  years  of  age.  She  was  naturally  of  a  susceptible  dis- 
position, which  diligent  attention  to  the  legends  of  saints  and 
tales  of  fairies,  aided  by  the  dreamy  loneliness  of  her  life  while 
tending  her  father's  flocks, f  had  made  peculiarly  prone  to  en- 
thusiastic fervor.  At  the  same  time,  she  was  eminent  for  piety 
and  purity  of  soul,  and  for  her  compassionate  gentleness  to  the 
sick  and  the  distressed. 

The  district  where  she  dwelt  had  escaped  comparatively  free 
from  the  ravages  of  war,  but  the  approach  of  roving  bands  of 

*  "  Respondit  quod  in  partibus  suis  vocabatur  Johanneta,  et  postquam 
venit  in  Franciam  vocata  est  Johanna." — Proces  de  Jeanne  d'Arc,  i.,p.  46. 

t  Southey,  in  one  of  the  speeches  which  he  puts  in  the  mouth  of  Joan 
of  Arc,  has  made  her  beautifully  describe  the  effect  on  her  mind  of  the 
scenery  in  which  she  dwelt : 

"  Here  in  solitude  and  peace 
My  soul  was  nursed,  amid  the  loveliest  scenes 
Of  unpolluted  nature.    Sweet  it  was. 
As  the  white  mists  of  morning  roll'd  away, 
To  see  the  mountain's  wooded  heights  appear 
Dark  in  the  early  dawn,  and  mark  its  slope 
With  gorse-flowers  glowing,  as  the  rising  sun 
On  the  golden  ripeness  pour'd  a  deepening  light. 
Pleasant  at  noon  beside  the  vocal  brook 
To  lay  me  down,  and  watch  the  floating  clouds, 
And  shape  to  Fancy's  wild  similitudes 
Their  ever-varying  forms ;  and  oh !  how  sweet, 
To  drive  my  flock  at  evening  to  the  fold, 
And  hasten  to  our  little  hut,  and  hear 
The  voice  of  kindness  bid  me  welcome  home." 

The  only  foundation  for  the  story  told  by  the  Burgundian  partisan 
Monstrelet,  and  adopted  by  Hume,  of  Joan  having  been  brought  up  as  a 
servant,  is  the  circumstance  of  her  having  been  once,  with  the  rest  of  her 
family,  obliged  to  take  refuge  in  an  anberge  in  Neufchateau  for  fifteen 
days,  when  a  party  of  Burgundian  cavalry  made  an  incursion  into  Dom- 
remy.   (See  the  "  Quarterly  Review  "  No.  138.) 


JOAN    OF    ARC'S    VICTORY  2H 

Burgundian  or  English  troops  frequently  spread  terror  through 
Domremy.  Once  the  village  had  been  plundered  by  some  of 
these  marauders,  and  Joan  and  her  family  had  been  driven 
from  their  home,  and  forced  to  seek  refuge  for  a  time  at  Neuf- 
chateau  The  peasantry  in  Domremy  were  principally  at- 
tached to  the  house  of  Orleans  and  the  dauphin,  and  all  the 
miseries  which  France  endured  were  there  imputed  to  the  Bur- 
gundian faction  and  their  allies,  the  English,  who  were  seeking 
to  enslave  unhappy  France. 

Thus,  from  infancy  to  girlhood,  Joan  had  heard  continually 
of  the  woes  of  the  war,  and  had  herself  witnessed  some  of  the 
wretchedness  that  it  caused.  A  feeling  of  intense  patriotism 
grew  in  her  with  her  growth.  The  deliverance  of  France  from 
the  English  was  the  subject  of  her  reveries  by  day  and  her 
dreams  by  night.  Blended  with  these  aspirations  were  recollec- 
tions of  the  miraculous  interpositions  of  Heaven  in  favor  of  the 
oppressed,  which  she  had  learned  from  the  legends  of  her 
Church.  Her  faith  was  undoubting;  her  prayers  were  fervent. 
"  She  feared  no  danger,  for  she  felt  no  sm,"  and  at  length  she  be- 
lieved herself  to  have  received  the  supernatural  inspiration 
which  she  sought.  According  to  her  own  narrative,  delivered  by 
her  to  her  merciless  inquisitors  in  the  time  of  her  captivity  and 
approaching  death,  she  was  about  thirteen  years  old  when  her 
revelations  commenced.  Her  own  words  describe  them  best.* 
"  At  the  age  of  thirteen,  a  voice  from  God  came  to  her  to  help 
her  m  ruling  herself,  and  that  voice  came  to  her  about  the  hour 
of  noon,  in  summer  time,  wdiile  she  was  in  her  father's  garden. 
And  she  had  fasted  the  day  before.  And  she  heard  the  voice 
on  her  right,  m  the  direction  of  the  church  ;  and  when  she  heard 
the  voice,  she  saw  also  a  bright  light."  Afterwards  St.  Michael, 
and  St.  Margaret,  and  St.  Catharine  appeared  to  her.  They 
were  always  m  a  halo  of  glory ;  she  could  see  that  their  heads 
were  crowned  with  jewels ;  and  she  heard  their  voices,  which 
were  sweet  and  mild.  She  did  not  distmguish  their  arms  or 
limbs.  She  heard  them  more  frequently  than  she  saw  them ; 
and  the  usual  time  when  she  heard  them  was  when  the  church 
bells  were  sounding  for  prayer.  And  if  she  was  in  the  woods 
when  she  heard  them,  she  could  plainly  distinguish  their  voices 
drawing  near  to  her.  When  she  thought  that  she  discerned  the 
Heavenly  Voices,  she  knelt  down,  and  bowed  herself  to  the 
*  "  Proces  de  Jeanne  d'Arc,"  vol.  i.,  p   52. 


212  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

ground.  Their  presence  gladdened  her  even  to  tears;  and, 
after  they  departed,  she  wept  because  they  had  not  taken  her 
with  them  back  to  Paradise.  They  always  spoke  soothingly  to 
her.  They  told  her  that  France  would  be  saved,  and  that  she 
was  to  save  it.  Such  were  the  visions  and  the  voices  that 
moved  the  spirit  of  the  girl  of  thirteen ;  and,  as  she  grew  older, 
they  became  more  frequent  and  more  clear.  At  last  the  tidings 
of  the  siege  of  Orleans  reached  Domremy.  Joan  heard  her 
parents  and  neighbors  talk  of  the  sufferings  of  its  population, 
of  the  ruin  which  its  capture  would  bring  on  their  lawful  sover- 
eign, and  of  the  distress  of  the  dauphin  and  his  court.  Joan's 
heart  was  sorely  troubled  at  the  thought  of  the  fate  of  Orleans ; 
and  her  voices  now  ordered  her  to  leave  her  home ;  and  warned 
her  that  she  was  the  instrument  chosen  by  Heaven  for  driving 
away  the  English  from  that  city,  and  for  taking  the  dauphin  to 
be  anointed  king  at  Rheims.  At  length  she  informed  her 
parents  of  her  divine  mission,  and  told  them  that  she  must  go 
to  the  Sire  de  Baudricourt,  who  commanded  at  Vaucouleurs, 
and  who  was  the  appointed  person  to  bring  her  into  the  pres- 
ence of  the  king,  whom  she  was  to  save.  Neither  the  anger 
nor  the  grief  of  her  parents,  who  said  that  they  would  rather  see 
her  drowned  than  exposed  to  the  contamination  of  the  camp, 
could  move  her  from  her  purpose.  One  of  her  uncles  con- 
sented to  take  her  to  Vaucouleurs,  where  De  Baudricourt  at 
first  thought  her  mad,  and  derided  her ;  but  by  degrees  was  led 
to  believe,  if  not  in  her  inspiration,  at  least  in  her  enthusiasm, 
and  in  its  possible  utility  to  the  dauphin's  cause. 

The  inhabitants  of  Vaucouleurs  were  completely  won  over 
to  her  side  by  the  piety  and  devoutness  which  she  displayed, 
and  by  her  firm  assurance  in  the  truth  of  her  mission.  She 
told  them  that  it  was  God's  will  that  she  should  go  to  the  king, 
and  that  no  one  but  her  could  save  the  kingdom  of  France 
She  said  that  she  herself  would  rather  remain  with  her  poor 
mother,  and  spin ;  but  the  Lord  had  ordered  her  forth.  The 
fame  of "  The  Maid,"  as  she  was  termed,  the  renown  of  her  holi- 
ness, and  of  her  mission,  spread  far  and  wide.  Baudricourt 
sent  her  with  an  escort  to  Chinon,  where  the  Dauphin  Charles 
was  dallying  away  his  time.  Her  Voices  had  bidden  her  as- 
sume the  arms  and  the  apparel  of  a  knight ;  and  the  wealthiest 
mhabitants  of  Vaucouleurs  had  vied  with  each  other  in  equip- 
ping her  with  war-horse,    armor,    and    sword.     On  reaching 


JOAN    OF    ARCS    VICTORY  213 

Chinon,  she  was,  after  some  delay,  admitted  into  the  presence 
of  the  dauphin.  Charles  designedly  dressed  himself  far  less 
richly  than  many  of  his  courtiers  were  apparelled,  and  mingled 
with  them,  when  Joan  was  introduced,  in  order  to  see  if  the 
Holy  Maid  would  address  her  exhortations  to  the  wrong  per- 
son. But  she  instantly  singled  him  out,  and,  kneeling  before 
him,  said :  "  Most  noble  dauphin,  the  King  of  Heaven  an- 
nounces to  you  by  me  that  you  shall  be  anointed  and  crowned 
king  m  the  city  of  Rheims,  and  that  you  shall  be  his  viceregent 
in  France."  His  features  may  probably  have  been  seen  by  her 
previously  in  portraits,  or  have  been  described  to  her  by 
others;  but  she  herself  believed  that  her  Voices  inspired  her 
when  she  addressed  the  king;*  and  the  report  soon  spread 
abroad  that  the  Holy  Maid  had  found  the  king  by  a  miracle ; 
and  this,  with  many  other  similar  rumors,  augmented  ihe  re- 
nown and  influence  that  she  now  rapidly  acquired. 

The  state  of  public  feeling  in  France  was  now  favorable  to  an 
enthusiastic  belief  m  a  divine  interposition  in  favor  of  the  party 
that  had  hitherto  been  unsuccessful  and  oppressed.  The 
humiliations  which  had  befallen  the  French  royal  family  and 
nobility  were  looked  on  as  the  just  judgments  of  God  upon 
them  for  their  vice  and  impiety.  The  misfortunes  that  had 
come  upon  France  as  a  nation  were  believed  to  have  been 
drawn  down  by  national  sins.  The  English,  who  had  been  the 
instruments  of  Heaven's  wrath  against  France,  seemed  now, 
by  their  pride  and  cruelty,  to  be  fitting  objects  of  it  themselves. 
France  in  that  age  was  a  profoundly  religious  country.  There 
was  ignorance,  there  was  superstition,  there  was  bigotry ;  but 
there  was  Faith — a  faith  that  itself  worked  true  miracles,  even 
while  it  believed  in  unreal  ones.  At  this  time,  also,  one  of 
those  devotional  movements  began  among  the  clergy  in 
France,  which  from  time  to  time  occur  in  national  churches, 
without  it  being  possible  for  the  historian  to  assign  any  ade- 
quate human  cause  for  their  immediate  date  or  extension 
Numberless  friars  and  priests  traversed  the  rural  districts  and 
towns  of  France,  preaching  to  the  people  that  they  must  seek 
from  Heaven  a  deliverance  from  the  pillages  of  the  soldiery  and 
the  insolence  of  the  foreign  oppressors,  f  The  idea  of  a  Provi- 
dence that  works  only  by  general  laws  was  wholly  alien  to  the 

*  "  Proces  de  Jeanne  d'Arc,"  vol.  i.,  p.  56. 

t  See  Sismondi,  vol.  xiii ,  p    114;    Michelet,  vol.  v.,  livre  x. 


214  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

feelings  of  the  age.  Every  political  event,  as  well  as  every 
natural  phenomenon,  was  believed  to  be  the  immediate  result 
of  a  special  mandate  of  God.  This  led  to  the  belief  that  his  holy 
angels  and  saints  were  constantly  employed  in  executing  his 
commands  and  mingling  in  the  affairs  of  men.  The  Church 
encouraged  these  feelings,  and  at  the  same  time  sanctioned  the 
concurrent  popular  belief  that  hosts  of  evil  spirits  were  also 
ever  actively  interposing  in  the  current  of  earthly  events,  with 
whom  sorcerers  and  wizards  could  league  themselves,  and 
thereby  obtain  the  exercise  of  supernatural  power. 

Thus,  all  things  favored  the  influence  which  Joan  obtained 
both  over  friends  and  foes.  The  French  nation,  as  well  as  the 
English  and  Burgundians,  readily  admitted  that  superhuman 
beings  inspired  her ;  the  only  question  was  whether  these  be- 
ings were  good  or  evil  angels ;  whether  she  brought  with  her 
"  airs  from  heaven  or  blasts  from  hell."  This  question  seemed 
to  her  countrymen  to  be  decisively  settled  in  her  favor  by  the" 
austere  sanctity  of  her  life,  by  the  holiness  of  her  conversation, 
but  still  more  by  her  exemplary  attention  to  all  the  services  and 
rites  of  the  Church.  The  dauphin  at  first  feared  the  injury 
that  might  be  done  to  his  cause  if  he  laid  himself  open  to  the 
charge  of  having  leagued  himself  with  a  sorceress.  Every 
imaginable  test,  therefore,  was  resorted  to  in  order  to  set  Joan's 
orthodoxy  and  purity  beyond  suspicion.  At  last  Charles  and 
his  advisers  felt  safe  in  accepting  her  services  as  those  of  a  true 
and  virtuous  Christian  daughter  of  the  Holy  Church. 

It  is,  indeed,  probable  that  Charles  himself  and  some  of  his 
counselors  may  have  suspected  Joan  of  being  a  mere  enthu- 
siast, and  it  is  certain  that  Dunois,  and  others  of  the  best  gen- 
erals, took  considerable  latitude  in  obeying  or  deviating  from 
the  military  orders  that  she  gave.  But  over  the  mass  of  the 
people  and  the  soldiery  her  influence  was  unbounded.  While 
Charles  and  his  doctors  of  theology,  and  court  ladies,  had  been 
deliberating  as  to  recognizing  or  dismissing  the  Maid,  a  con- 
siderable period  had  passed  away,  during  which  a  small  army, 
the  last  gleanings,  at  is  seemed,  of  the  English  sword,  had  been 
assembled  at  Blois,  under  Dunois,  La  Hire,  Xaintrailles,  and 
other  chiefs,  who  to  their  natural  valor  were  now  beginning  to 
unite  the  wisdom  that  is  taught  by  misfortune.  It  was  resolved 
to  send  Joan  with  this  force  and  a  convoy  of  provisions  to  Or- 
leans.    The  distress  of  that  city  had  now  become  urgent.     But 


JOAN    OF    ARCS    VICTORY  215 

the  communication  with  the  open  country  was  not  entirely  cut 
off :  the  Orleannais  had  heard  of  the  Holy  Maid  whom  Provi- 
dence had  raised  up  for  their  deliverance,  and  their  messengers 
earnestly  implored  the  dauphin  to  send  her  to  them  without 
delay. 

Joan  appeared  at  the  camp  at  Blois,  clad  in  a  new  suit  of 
brilliant  white  armor,  mounted  on  a  stately  black  war-horse, 
and  with  a  lance  in  her  right  hand,  which  she  had  learned  to 
wield  with  skill  and  grace.*  Her  head  was  unhelmeted,  so 
that  all  could  behold  her  fair  and  expressive  features,  her  deep- 
set  and  earnest  eyes,  and  her  long  black  hair,  which  was  parted 
across  her  forehead,  and  bound  by  a  ribbon  behind  her  back. 
She  wore  at  her  side  a  small  battle-axe,  and  the  consecrated 
sword,  marked  on  the  blade  with  five  crosses,  which  had  at  her 
bidding  been  taken  for  her  from  the  shrine  of  St.  Catharine  at 
Fierbois.  A  page  carried  her  banner,  which  she  had  caused  to 
be  made  and  embroidered  as  her  Voices  enjoined.  It  was 
white  satin, f  strewn  with  fleurs-de-lis;  and  on  it  were  the  words 
"  Jhesus  Maria,"  and  the  representation  of  the  Saviour  in  his 
glory.  Joan  afterwards  generally  bore  her  banner  herself  in 
battle ;  she  said  that,  tliough  she  loved  her  sword  much,  she 
loved  her  banner  forty  times  as  much ;  and  she  loved  to  carry 
it,  because  it  could  not  kill  any  one. 

Thus  accoutred,  she  came  to  lead  the  troops  of  France,  who 
looked  with  soldierly  admiration  on  her  well-proportioned  and 
upright  figure,  the  skill  with  which  she  managed  her  war- 
horse,  and  the  easy  grace  with  which  she  handled  her  weapons. 
Her  military  education  had  been  short,  but  she  had  availed  her- 
self of  it  well.  She  had  also  the  good  sense  to  interfere  little 
with  the  manoeuvres  of  the  troops,  leaving  these  things  to 
Dunois,  and  others  whom  she  had  the  discernment  to  recog- 
nize as  the  best  officers  in  the  camp.  Her  tactics  in  action  were 
simple  enough.  As  she  herself  described  it,  "  I  used  to  say  to 
them, '  Go  boldly  in  among  the  English,'  and  then  I  used  to  go 
boldly  in  myself."  X  Such,  as  she  told  her  inquisitors,  was  the 
only  spell  she  used,  and  it  was  one  of  power.  But,  while  inter- 
fering little  with  the  military  discipline  of  the  troops,  in  all  mat- 

*  See  the  description  of  her  by  Gui  de  Laval,  quoted  in  the  note  to 
Michelet,  p.  69 ;  and  see  the  account  of  the  banner  at  Orleans,  which  is 
believed  to  bear  an  authentic  portrait  of  the  Maid,  in  Murray's  "  Hand- 
book for  France,"  p.  175. 

t "  Proces  de  Jeanne  d'Arc,"  vol.  i.,  p.  238.    t  Id.  ib. 


2i6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

ters  of  moral  discipline  she  was  inflexibly  strict.  All  the 
abandoned  followers  of  the  camp  were  driven  away.  She  com- 
pelled both  generals  and  soldiers  to  attend  regularly  at  confes- 
sional. Her  chaplain  and  other  priests  marched  with  the  army 
under  her  orders ;  and  at  every  halt,  an  altar  was  set  up  and  the 
sacrament  administered.  No  oath  or  foul  language  passed 
without  punishment  or  censure.  Even  the  roughest  and  most 
hardened  veterans  obeyed  her.  They  put  off  for  a  time  the 
bestial  coarseness  which  had  grown  on  them  during  a  life  of 
bloodshed  and  rapine ;  they  felt  that  they  must  go  forth  in  a  new 
spirit  to  a  new  career,  and  acknowledged  the  beauty  of  the  holi- 
ness in  which  the  heaven-sent  Maid  was  leading  them  to  certain 
victory. 

Joan  marched  from  Blois  on  the  25th  of  April  with  a  convoy 
of  provisions  for  Orleans,  accompanied  by  Dunois,  La  Hire, 
and  the  other  chief  captains  of  the  French,  and  on  the  evening 
of  the  28th  they  approached  the  town.  In  the  words  of  the  old 
chronicler  Hall  :*  "  The  Englishmen,  perceiving  that  thei 
within  could  not  long  continue  for  faute  of  vitaile  and  ponder, 
kepte  not  their  watche  so  diligently  as  thei  were  accustomed, 
nor  scoured  now  the  countrey  environed  as  thei  before  had  or- 
dained. Whiche  negligence  the  citizens  shut  in  perceiving, 
sent  worde  thereof  to  the  French  captaines,  which,  with  Pu- 
celle,  in  the  dedde  tyme  of  the  nighte,  and  in  a  greate  rayne  and 
thundere,  with  all  their  vitaile  and  artillery,  entered  into  the 
citie." 

When  it  was  day,  the  Maid  rode  in  solemn  procession 
through  the  city,  clad  in  complete  armor,  and  mounted  on  a 
white  horse.  Dunois  was  by  her  side,  and  all  the  bravest 
knights  of  her  army  and  of  the  garrison  followed  in  her  train. 
The  whole  population  thronged  around  her ;  and  men,  women, 
and  children  strove  to  touch  her  garments,  or  her  banner,  or 
her  charger.  They  poured  forth  blessings  on  her,  whom  they 
already  considered  their  deliverer.  In  the  words  used  by  two 
of  them  afterwards  before  the  tribunal  which  reversed  the  sen- 
tence, but  could  not  restore  the  life  of  the  Virgin-martyr  of 
France,  "  the  people  of  Orleans,  when  they  first  saw  her  in  their 
city,  thought  that  it  was  an  angel  from  Heaven  that  had  come 
down  to  save  them."  Joan  spoke  gently  in  reply  to  their  ac- 
clamations and  addresses.      She  told  them  to  fear  God,  and 

*  Hall,  f.  127. 


JOAN    OF    ARC'S    VICTORY  217 

trust  in  Him  for  safety  from  the  fury  of  their  enemies.  She 
first  went  to  the  principal  church,  where  Te  Deiim  was  chanted ; 
and  then  she  took  up  her  abode  at  the  house  of  Jacques  Bour- 
gier,  one  of  the  principal  citizens,  and  whose  wife  was  a  matron 
of  good  repute.  She  refused  to  attend  a  splendid  banquet 
which  had  been  provided  for  her,  and  passed  nearly  all  her  time 
in  prayer. 

When  it  was  known  by  the  English  that  the  Maid  was  in  Or- 
leans, their  minds  were  not  less  occupied  about  her  than  were 
the  minds  of  those  in  the  city ;  but  it  was  in  a  very  different 
spirit.  The  English  believed  in  her  supernatural  mission  as 
firmly  as  the  French  did,  but  they  thought  her  a  sorceress  who 
had  come  to  overthrow  them  by  her  enchantments.  An  old 
prophecy,  wdiich  told  that  a  damsel  from  Lorraine  was  to  save 
France,  had  long  been  current,  and  it  was  known  and  applied 
to  Joan  by  foreigners,  as  well  as  by  the  natives.  For  months 
the  English  had  heard  of  the  coming  Maid,  and  the  tales  of 
miracles  which  she  was  said  to  have  wrought  had  been  listened 
to  by  the  rough  yeomen  of  the  English  camp  with  anxious 
curiosity  and  secret  awe.  She  had  sent  a  herald  to  the  English 
generals  before  she  marched  for  Orleans,  and  he  had  sum- 
moned the  English  generals  in  the  name  of  the  Most  High  to 
give  up  to  the  Maid,  who  was  sent  by  Heaven,  the  keys  of  the 
French  cities  which  they  had  wrongfully  taken ;  and  he  also 
solemnly  adjured  the  English  troops,  whether  archers,  or  men 
of  the  companies  of  war,  or  gentlemen,  or  others,  who  were 
before  the  city  of  Orleans,  to  depart  thence  to  their  homes,  un- 
der peril  of  being  visited  by  the  judgment  of  God.  On  her 
arrival  in  Orleans,  Joan  sent  another  similar  message ;  but  the 
English  scoffed  at  her  from  their  towers,  and  threatened  to 
burn  her  heralds.  She  determined,  before  she  shed  the  blood 
of  the  besiegers,  to  repeat  the  warning  with  her  own  voice  ;  and, 
accordingly,  she  mounted  one  of  the  boulevards  of  the  town, 
which  was  within  hearing  of  the  Tourelles,  and  thence  she 
spoke  to  the  English,  and  bade  them  depart,  otherwise  they 
would  meet  with  shame  and  woe.  Sir  William  Gladsdale 
(whom  the  French  call  Glacidas)  commanded  the  English  post 
at  the  Tourelles,  and  he  and  another  English  officer  replied  by 
bidding  her  go  home  and  keep  her  cows,  and  by  ribald  jests, 
that  brought  tears  of  shame  and  indignation  into  her  eyes. 
But,  though  the  English  leaders  vaunted  aloud,  the  effect  pro- 


2i8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

duced  on  their  army  by  Joan's  presence  in  Orleans  was  proved 
four  days  after  her  arrival,  when,  on  the  approach  of  re-enforce- 
ments and  stores  to  the  town,  Joan  and  La  Hire  marched  out 
to  meet  them,  and  escorted  the  long  train  of  provision  wagons 
safely  into  Orleans,  between  the  bastilles  of  the  English,  who 
cowered  behind  their  walls,  instead  of  charging  fiercely  and 
fearlessly,  as  had  been  their  wont,  on  any  French  band  that 
dared  to  show  itself  within  reach. 

Thus  far  she  had  prevailed  without  striking  a  blow ;  but  the 
time  was  now  come  to  test  her  courage  amid  the  horrors  of 
actual  slaughter.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which  she 
had  escorted  the  re-enforcements  into  the  city,  while  she  was 
resting  fatigued  at  home,  Dunois  had  seized  an  advantageous 
opportunity  of  attacking  the  English  bastille  of  St.  Loup,  and 
a  fierce  assault  of  the  Orleannais  had  been  made  on  it,  which 
the  English  garrison  of  the  fort  stubbornly  resisted.  Joan  was 
roused  by  a  sound  which  she  believed  to  be  that  of  her  Heav- 
enly Voices ;  she  called  for  her  arms  and  horse,  and,  quickly 
equipping  herself,  she  mounted  to  ride  off  to  where  the  fight 
was  raging.  In  her  haste  she  had  forgotten  her  banner ;  she 
rode  back,  and,  without  dismounting,  had  it  given  to  her  from 
the  window,  and  then  she  galloped  to  the  gate  whence  the  sally 
had  been  made.  On  her  way  she  met  some  of  the  wounded 
French  who  had  been  carried  back  from  the  fight.  "  Ha !  "  she 
exclaimed,  "  I  never  can  see  French  blood  flow  without  my 
hair  standing  on  end."  She  rode  out  of  the  gate,  and  met  the 
tide  of  her  countrymen,  who  had  been  repulsed  from  the  Eng- 
lish fort,  and  were  flying  back  to  Orleans  in  confusion.  At  the 
sight  of  the  Holy  Maid  and  her  banner  they  rallied,  and  re- 
newed the  assault.  Joan  rode  forward  at  their  head,  waving 
her  banner  and  cheering  them  on.  The  English  quailed  at 
what  they  believed  to  be  the  charge  of  hell ;  Saint  Loup  was 
stormed,  and  its  defenders  put  to  the  sword,  except  some  few, 
whom  Joan  succeeded  in  saving.  All  her  woman's  gentleness 
returned  when  the  combat  was  over.  It  was  the  first  time  she 
had  ever  seen  a  battle-field.  She  wept  at  the  sight  of  so  many 
bleeding  corpses ;  and  her  tears  flowed  doubly  when  she  re- 
flected that  they  were  the  bodies  of  Christian  men  who  had  died 
without  confession. 

The  next  day  was  Ascension  day,  and  it  was  passed  by  Joan 
in  prayer.     But  on  the  following  morrow  it  was  resolved  by 


JOAN    OF   ARC'S    VICTORY  219 

the  chiefs  of  the  garrison  to  attack  the  English  forts  on  the 
south  of  the  river.  For  this  purpose  they  crossed  the  river  in 
boats,  and,  after  some  severe  fighting,  in  which  the  Maid  was 
wounded  in  the  heel,  both  the  English  bastilles  of  the  Augustins 
and  St.  Jean  de  Blanc  were  captured.  The  Tourelles  were  nov/ 
the  only  post  which  the  besiegers  held  on  the  south  of  the  river. 
But  that  post  was  formidably  strong,  and,  by  its  command  of 
the  bridge,  it  was  the  key  to  the  deliverance  of  Orleans.  It 
was  known  that  a  fresh  English  army  was  approaching  under 
Fastolfe  to  re-enforce  the  besiegers,  and,  should  that  army  ar- 
rive while  the  Tourelles  were  yet  in  the  possession  of  their 
comrades,  there  was  great  peril  of  all  the  advantages  which  the 
French  had  gained  being  nullified,  and  of  the  siege  being  again 
actively  carried  on. 

It  was  resolved,  therefore,  by  the  French  to  assail  the  Tour- 
elles at  once,  while  the  enthusiasm  which  the  presence  and  the 
heroic  valor  of  the  Maid  had  created  was  at  its  height.  But  the 
enterprise  was  difficult.  The  rampart  of  the  tete-du-pont,  or 
landward  bulwark,  of  the  Tourelles  was  steep  and  high,  and  Sir 
John  Gladsdale  occupied  this  all-important  fort  with  five  hun- 
dred archers  and  men-at-arms,  who  were  the  very  flower  of  the 
English  army. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  7th  of  May,  some  thousands  of 
the  best  French  troops  in  Orleans  heard  mass  and  attended  the 
confessional  by  Joan's  orders,  and  then,  crossing  the  river  in 
boats,  as  on  the  preceding  day,  they  assailed  the  bulwark  of  the 
Tourelles  "  with  light  hearts  and  heavy  hands."  But  Glads- 
dale's  men,  encouraged  by  their  bold  and  skilful  leader,  made  a 
resolute  and  able  defence.  The  Maid  planted  her  banner  on 
the  edge  of  the  fosse,  and  then,  springing  down  into  the  ditch, 
she  placed  the  first  ladder  against  the  wall,  and  began  to 
mount.  An  English  archer  sent  an  arrow  at  her,  which  pierced 
her  corselet,  and  wounded  her  severely  between  the  neck  and 
shoulder.  She  fell  bleeding  from  the  ladder ;  and  the  English 
were  leaping  down  from  the  wall  to  capture  her,  but  her  follow- 
ers bore  her  ofif.  She  was  carried  to  the  rear,  and  laid  upon  the 
grass ;  her  armor  was  taken  ofif,  and  the  anguish  of  her  wound 
and  the  sight  of  her  blood  made  her  at  first  tremble  and  weep. 
But  her  confidence  in  her  celestial  mission  soon  returned :  her 
patron  saints  seemed  to  stand  before  her,  and  reassure  her. 
She  sat  up  and  drew  the  arrow  out  with  her  own  hands.     Some 


220  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

of  the  soldiers  who  stood  by  wished  to  stanch  the  blood  by  say- 
ing a  charm  over  the  wound  ;  but  she  forbade  them,  saying  that 
she  did  not  wish  to  be  cured  by  unhallowed  means.  She  had  the 
wound  dressed  with  a  little  oil,  and  then,  bidding  her  confessor 
come  to  her,  she  betook  herself  to  prayer. 

In  the  mean  while,  the  English  in  the  bulwark  of  the  Tourelles 
had  repulsed  the  oft-renewed  eflforts  of  the  French  to  scale  the 
wall.  Dunois,  who  commanded  the  assailants,  was  at  last  dis- 
couraged, and  gave  orders  for  a  retreat  to  be  sounded.  Joan 
sent  for  him  and  the  other  generals,  and  implored  them  not  to 
despair.  "  By  my  God,"  she  said  to  them,  "  you  shall  soon 
enter  in  there.  Do  not  doubt  it.  When  you  see  my  banner 
wave  again  up  to  the  wall,  to  your  arms  again !  The  fort  is 
yours.  For  the  present,  rest  a  little,  and  take  some  food  and 
drink."  "  They  did  so,"  says  the  old  chronicler  of  the  siege,* 
"  for  they  obeyed  her  marvellously."  The  faintness  caused  by 
her  wound  had  now  passed  off,  and  she  headed  the  French  in 
another  rush  against  the  bulwark.  The  English,  who  had 
thought  her  slain,  were  alarmed  at  her  reappearance,  while  the 
French  pressed  furiously  and  fanatically  forward.  A  Biscayan 
soldier  was  carrying  Joan's  banner.  She  had  told  the  troops 
that  directly  the  banner  touched  the  wall,  they  should  enter. 
The  Biscayan  waved  the  banner  forward  from  the  edge  of  the 
fosse,  and  touched  the  wall  with  it;  and  then  all  the  French 
host  swarmed  madly  up  the  ladders  that  now  were  raised  in  all 
directions  against  the  English  fort.  At  this  crisis,  the  efforts 
of  the  English  garrison  were  distracted  by  an  attack  from  an- 
other quarter.  The  French  troops  who  had  been  left  in  Or- 
leans had  placed  some  planks  over  the  broken  arch  of  the 
bridge,  and  advanced  across  them  to  the  assault  of  the  Tour- 
elles on  the  northern  side.  Gladsdale  resolved  to  withdraw 
his  men  from  the  landward  bulwark,  and  concentrate  his  whole 
force  in  the  Tourelles  themselves.  He  was  passing  for  this 
purpose  across  the  drawbridge  that  connected  the  Tourelles 
and  the  tete-du-pont,  when  Joan,  who  by  this  time  had  scaled 
the  wall  of  the  bulwark,  called  out  to  him,  "  Surrender!  Sur- 
render to  the  King  of  Heaven !  Ah,  Glacidas,  you  have  foully 
wronged  me  with  your  words,  but  I  have  great  pity  on  your 
soul  and  the  souls  of  your  men."  The  Englishman,  disdainful 
of  her  summons,  was  striding  on  across  the  drawbridge,  when 
*  "  Journal  du  Siege  d'Orleans,"  p.  87. 


JOAN    OF    ARCS    VICTORY  221 

a  cannon  shot  from  the  town  carried  it  away,  and  Gladsdale 
perished  in  the  water  that  ran  beneath.  After  his  fall,  the  rem- 
nant of  the  English  abandoned  all  further  resistance.  Three 
hundred  of  them  had  been  killed  in  the  battle,  and  two  hundred 
were  made  prisoners. 

The  broken  arch  was  speedily  repaired  by  the  exulting  Or- 
leannais,  and  Joan  made  her  triumph  re-entry  into  the  city  by 
the  bridge  that  had  so  long  been  closed.  Every  church  in 
Orleans  rang  out  its  gratulating  peal;  and  throughout  the 
night,  the  sounds  of  rejoicing  echoed,  and  the  bonfires  blazed 
up  from  the  city.  But  in  the  lines  and  forts  which  the  besiegers 
yet  retained  on  the  northern  shore,  there  was  anxious  watching 
of  the  generals,  and  there  was  desponding  gloom  among  the 
soldiery.  Even  Talbot  now  counselled  retreat.  On  the  follow- 
ing morning,  the  Orleannais,  from  their  walls,  saw  the  great 
forts  called  "  London  "  and  "  St.  Lawrence  "  in  flames,  and 
witnessed  their  invaders  busy  in  destroying  the  stores  and 
munitions  which  had  been  relied  on  for  the  destruction  of 
Orleans.  Slowly  and  sullenly  the  English  army  retired  ;  and  not 
before  it  had  drawn  up  in  battle  array  opposite  to  the  city,  as  if 
to  challenge  the  garrison  to  an  encounter.  The  French  troops 
were  eager  to  go  out  and  attack,  but  Joan  forbade  it.  The  day 
was  Sunday.  "  In  the  name  of  God,"  she  said,  "  let  them  de- 
part, and  let  us  return  thanks  to  God."  She  led  the  soldiers 
and  citizens  forth  from  Orleans,  but  not  for  the  shedding  of 
blood.  They  passed  in  solemn  procession  round  the  city  walls, 
and  then,  while  their  retiring  enemies  were  yet  in  sight,  they 
knelt  in  thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  deliverance  which  he  had 
vouchsafed  them. 

Within  three  months  from  the  time  of  her  first  interview 
with  the  dauphin,  Joan  had  fulfilled  the  first  part  of  her 
promise,  the  raising  of  the  siege  of  Orleans.  Within  three 
months  more  she  had  fulfilled  the  second  part  also,  and  had 
stood  with  her  banner  in  her  hand  by  the  high  altar  at  Rheims, 
while  he  was  anointed  and  crowned  as  King  Charles  VIL  of 
France.  In  the  interval  she  had  taken  Jargeau,  Troyes,  and 
other  strong  places,  and  she  had  defeated  an  English  army  in  a 
fair  field  at  Patay.  The  enthusiasm  of  her  countrymen  knew 
no  bounds ;  but  the  importance  of  her  services,  and  especially 
of  her  primary  achievement  at  Orleans,  may  perhaps  be  best 
proved  by  the  testimony  of  her  enemies.    There  is  extant  a 


222  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

fragment  of  a  letter  from  the  Regent  Bedford  to  his  royal 
nephew,  Henry  VI.,  in  which  he  bewails  the  turn  that  the  war 
has  taken,  and  especially  attributes  it  to  the  raising  of  the  siege 
of  Orleans  by  Joan.  Bedford's  own  words,  which  are  preserved 
in  Rymer,*  are  as  follows : 

"  And  alle  thing  there  prospered  for  you  til  the  tyme  of  the 
Siege  of  Orleans  taken  in  hand  God  knoweth  by  what  advis. 

"  At  the  whiche  tyme,  after  the  adventure  fallen  to  the  per- 
sone  of  my  cousin  of  Salisbury,  whom  God  assoille,  there  felle, 
by  the  hand  of  God  as  it  seemeth,  a  great  strook  upon  your 
peuple  that  was  assembled  there  in  grete  nombre,  caused  in 
grete  partie,  as  y  trowe,  of  lakke  of  sadde  beleve,  and  of  unleve- 
fuUe  doubte,  that  thei  hadde  of  a  disciple  and  lyme  of  the 
Feende,  called  the  Pucelle,  that  used  fals  enchantments  and 
sorcerie. 

"The  whiche  strooke  and  discomfiture  nott  oonly  lessed  in 
grete  partie  the  nombre  of  your  peuple  there,  but  as  well  with- 
drewe  the  courage  of  the  remenant  in  merveillous  wyse,  and 
couraiged  your  adverse  partie  and  ennemys  to  assemble  them 
forthwith  in  grete  nombre." 

When  Charles  had  been  anointed  King  of  France,  Joan  be- 
lieved that  her  mission  was  accomplished.  And  in  truth,  the 
deliverance  of  France  from  the  English,  though  not  completed 
for  many  years  afterwards,  was  then  insured.  The  ceremony 
of  a  royal  coronation  and  anointment  was  not  in  those  days 
regarded  as  a  mere  costly  formality.  It  was  believed  to  confer 
the  sanction  and  the  grace  of  Heaven  upon  the  prince,  who  had 
previously  ruled  with  mere  human  authority.  Thenceforth  he 
was  the  Lord's  Anointed.  Moreover,  one  of  the  difficulties  that 
had  previously  lain  in  the  way  of  many  Frenchmen  when  called 
on  to  support  Charles  VII.  was  now  removed.  He  had  been 
publicly  stigmatized,  even  by  his  own  parents,  as  no  true  son 
of  the  royal  race  of  France.  The  queen-mother,  the  English, 
and  the  partisans  of  Burgundy  called  him  the  "  Pretender  to 
the  title  of  Dauphin  " ;  but  those  who  had  been  led  to  doubt  his 
legitimacy  were  cured  of  their  scepticism  by  the  victories  of 
the  Holy  Maid,  and  by  the  fulfilment  of  her  pledges.  They 
thought  that  Heaven  had  now  declared  itself  in  favor  of  Charles 
as  the  true  heir  of  the  crown  of  St.  Louis,  and  the  tales  about 
his  being  spurious  were  thenceforth  regarded  as  mere  English 
*  Vol.  X.,  p.  408. 


JOAN    OF    ARCS    VICTORY  223 

calumnies.  With  this  strong  tide  of  national  feeling  in  his 
favor,  with  victorious  generals  and  soldiers  round  him,  and  a 
dispirited  and  divided  enemy  before  him,  he  could  not  fail  to 
conquer,  though  his  own  imprudence  and  misconduct,  and  the 
stubborn  valor  which  the  English  still  from  time  to  time  dis- 
played, prolonged  the  war  in  France  until  the  civil  war  of  the 
Roses  broke  out  in  England,  and  left  France  to  peace  and 
repose. 

Joan  knelt  before  the  French  king  in  the  cathedral  of  Rheims 
and  shed  tears  of  joy.  She  said  that  she  had  then  fulfilled  the 
work  which  the  Lord  had  commanded  her.  The  young  girl  now 
asked  for  her  dismissal.  She  wished  to  return  to  her  peasant 
home,  to  tend  her  parents'  flocks  again,  and  live  at  her  own 
will  in  her  native  village.*  She  had  always  believed  that  her 
career  would  be  a  short  one.  But  Charles  and  his  captains  were 
loath  to  lose  the  presence  of  one  who  had  such  an  influence  upon 
the  soldiery  and  the  people.  They  persuaded  her  to  stay  with 
the  army.  She  still  showed  the  same  bravery  and  zeal  for  the 
cause  of  France.  She  still  was  as  fervent  as  before  in  her  pray- 
ers, and  as  exemplary  in  all  religious  duties.  She  still  heard  her 
Heavenly  Voices,  but  she  now  no  longer  thought  herself  the  ap- 
pointed minister  of  Heaven  to  lead  her  countrymen  to  certain 
victory.  Our  admiration  for  her  courage  and  patriotism  ought 
to  be  increased  a  hundred  fold  by  her  conduct  throughout  the 
latter  part  of  her  career,  amid  dangers,  against  which  she  no 
longer  believed  herself  to  be  divinely  secured.  Indeed,  she  be- 
lieved herself  doomed  to  perish  in  a  little  more  than  a  year  ;f  but 
she  still  fought  on  as  resolutely,  if  not  as  exultingly  as  ever. 

As  in  the  case  of  Arminius,  the  interest  attached  to  individual 
heroism  and  virtue  makes  us  trace  the  fate  of  Joan  of  Arc  after 
she  had  saved  her  country.  She  served  well  with  Charles'  army 
in  the  capture  of  Laon,  Soissons,  Compiegne,  Beauvais,  and 
other  strong  places ;  but  in  a  premature  attack  on  Paris,  in 
September,  1429,  the  French  were  repulsed,  and  Joan  was 
severely  wounded.  In  the  winter  she  was  again  in  the  field  with 
some  of  the  French  troops,  and  in  the  following  spring  she 
threw  herself  into  the  fortress  of  Compiegne,  which  she  had 

*  "  Je  voudrais  bien  qu'il  voulut  me  faire  ramener  aupres  mes  pere  et 
mere,  a  garder  leurs  brebis  et  betail,  et  faire  ce  que  je  voudrois  faire." 

t  "  Des  le  commencement  elle  avait  dit,  'II  me  faut  employer;  je  ne 
durerai  qu'un  an,  ou  guere  plus.'  " — Michelet,  x.,  p.  loi. 


224  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

herself  won  for  the  French  king  in  the  preceding  autumn,  and 
which  was  now  besieged  by  a  strong  Burgundian  force. 

She  was  taken  prisoner  in  a  sally  from  Compiegne,  on  the 
24th  of  May,  and  was  imprisoned  by  the  Burgundians  first  at 
Arras,  and  then  at  a  place  called  Crotoy,  on  the  Flemish  coast, 
until  November,  when,  for  payment  of  a  large  sum  of  money, 
she  was  given  up  to  the  English,  and  taken  to  Rouen,  which 
then  was  their  main  stronghold  in  France. 

"  Sorrow  it  were,  and  shame  to  tell, 
The  butchery  that  there  befell." 

And  the  revolting  details  of  the  cruelties  practised  upon  this 
young  girl  may  be  left  to  those  whose  duty,  as  avowed  biog- 
raphers, it  is  to  describe  them.*  She  was  tried  before  an 
ecclesiastical  tribunal  on  the  charge  of  witchcraft,  and  on  the 
30th  of  May,  143 1,  she  was  burned  alive  in  the  market-place  at 
Rouen. 

I  will  add  but  one  remark  on  the  character  of  the  truest  hero- 
ine that  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

If  any  person  can  be  found  in  the  present  age  who  would 
join  in  the  scofifs  of  Voltaire  against  the  Maid  of  Orleans  and 
the  Heavenly  Voices  by  which  she  believed  herself  inspired,  let 
him  read  the  life  of  the  wisest  and  best  man  that  the  heathen 
nations  produced.  Let  him  read  of  the  Heavenly  Voices  by 
which  Socrates  believed  himself  to  be  constantly  attended ; 
which  cautioned  him  on  his  way  from  the  field  of  battle  at 
Delium,  and  which,  from  his  boyhood  to  the  time  of  his  death, 
visited  him  with  unearthly  warnings.f  Let  the  modern  reader 
reflect  upon  this ;  and  then,  unless  he  is  prepared  to  term 
Socrates  either  fool  or  impostor,  let  him  not  dare  to  deride  or 
villify  Joan  of  Arc. 

*  The  whole  of  the  "  Procesde  Condemnation  et  de  Rehabilitation  de 
Jeanne  d'Arc  "  has  been  published  in  five  volumes,  by  the  Societe  de 
I'Histoire  de  France.  All  the  passages  from  contemporary  chroniclers 
and  poets  are  added ;  and  the  most  ample  materials  are  thus  given  for 
acquiring  full  information  on  a  subject  which  is,  to  an  Englishman,  one 
of  painful  interest.  There  is  an  admirable  essay  on  Joan  of  Arc  in  the 
138th  number  of  the  "  Quarterly."  _ 

t  See  Cicero,  de  Divinatione,  lib.  i.,  sec.  41;  and  see  the  words  of 
Socrates  himself,  in  Plato.  Apol.  Soc.  :  "Otj  /xoi  ^u6v  n  koI  5atfi6yioi/  ylyvirtu. 
'Efiol:  6«  toCt*  ioriv  ew  TratSbj  ao^aixivov,  (puini  ns  yiyvofifur],  k.  t.  A.. 


JOAN    OF    ARC'S    VICTORY  225 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  Joan  of  Arc's  Victory  at 
Orleans,  a.d.  1429,  and  the  Defeat  of  the  Spanish 
Armada,  a.d.  1588. 

A.D.  1452.  Final  expulsion  of  the  English  from  France. 

1453.  Constantinople  taken,  and  the  Roman  empire  of  the 
East  destroyed  by  the  Turkish  Sultan  Mohammed  II. 

1455.  Commencement  of  the  civil  wars  in  England  between 
the  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster, 

1479.  Union  of  the  Christian  kingdoms  of  Spain  under 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 

1492.  Capture  of  Grenada  by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and 
end  of  the  Moorish  dominion  in  Spain. 

1492.  Columbus  discovers  the  New  World. 

1494.  Charles  VIII.  of  France  invades  Italy. 

1497.  Expedition  of  Vasco  da  Gama  to  the  East  Indies 
round  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope. 

1503.  Naples  conquered  from  the  French  by  the  great  Span- 
ish general,  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova. 

1508.  League  of  Cambray  by  the  Pope,  the  Emperor,  and 
the  King  of  France,  against  Venice. 

1509.  Albuquerque  establishes  the  empire  of  the  Portuguese 
in  the  East  Indies. 

1516.  Death  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain;  he  is  succeeded  by  his 
grandson  Charles,  afterwards  the  Emperor  Charles  V. 

1517.  Dispute  between  Luther  and  Tetzel  respecting  the  sale 
of  indulgences,  which  leads  to  the  Reformation. 

1 5 19.  Charles  V.  is  elected  Emperor  of  Germany. 

1520.  Cortez  conquers  Mexico. 

1525.  Francis  First  of  Spain  defeated  and  taken  prisoner  by 
the  imperial  army  at  Pavia. 

1529.  League  of  Smalcald  formed  by  the  Protestant  princes 
of  Germany. 

1533-  Henry  VIII.  renounces  the  papal  supremacy. 

1533.  Pizarro  conquers  Peru. 

1556.  Abdication  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  Philip  II.  be- 
comes King  of  Spain,  and  Ferdinand  I.  Emperor  of  Germany, 

1557.  Elizabeth  becomes  Queen  of  England. 

1557.  The  Spaniards  defeat  the  French  at  the  battle  of  St. 
Quentin. 
15 


226  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

1571.  Don  John  of  Austria,  at  the  head  of  the  Spanish  fleet, 
aided  by  the  Venetian  and  the  papal  squadrons,  defeats  the 
Turks  at  Lepanto. 

1572.  Massacre  of  the  Protestants  in  France  on  St.  Bar- 
tholomew's day. 

1579.  The  Netherlands  revolt  against  Spain. 

1580.  Philip  II.  conquers  Portugal. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   DEFEAT   OF  THE   SPANISH   ARMADA,   A.D. 

1588. 

"  In  that  memorable  year,  when  the  dark  cloud  gathered  round  our 
coasts,  when  Europe  stood  by  in  fearful  suspense  to  behold  what  should 
be  the  result  of  that  great  cast  in  the  game  of  human  politics,  what  the 
craft  of  Rome,  the  power  of  Philip,  the  genius  of  Farnese  could  achieve 
against  the  island-queen,  with  her  Drakes  and  Cecils — in  that  agony  of 
the  Protestant  faith  and  English  name." — Hallam,  Const.  Hist.,  vol.  i., 
p.  220. 

ON  the  afternoon  of  the  19th  of  July,  a.d.  1588,  a  group 
of  English  captains  was  collected  at  the  Bowling 
Green  on  the  Hoe  at  Plymouth,  whose  equals  have 
never  before  or  since  been  brought  together,  even  at  that 
favorite  mustering  place  of  the  heroes  of  the  British  navy. 
There  was  Sir  Francis  Drake,  the  first  English  circumnavi- 
gator of  the  globe,  the  terror  of  every  Spanish  coast  in  the  Old 
World  and  the  New ;  there  was  Sir  John  Hawkins,  the  rough 
veteran  of  many  a  daring  voyage  on  the  African  and  American 
seas,  and  of  many  a  desperate  battle ;  there  was  Sir  Martin 
Frobisher,  one  of  the  earliest  explorers  of  the  Arctic  seas,  in 
search  of  that  Northwest  Passage  which  is  still  the  darling 
object  of  England's  boldest  mariners.  There  was  the  high  ad- 
miral of  England,  Lord  Howard  of  Effingham,  prodigal  of  all 
things  in  his  country's  cause,  and  who  had  recently  had  the 
noble  daring  to  refuse  to  dismantle  part  of  the  fleet,  though  the 
queen  had  sent  him  orders  to  do  so,  in  consequence  of  an 
exaggerated  report  that  the  enemy  had  been  driven  back  and 
shattered  by  a  storm.  Lord  Howard  (whom  contemporary 
writers  describe  as  being  of  a  wise  and  noble  courage,  skilful 
in  sea  matters,  wary  and  provident,  and  of  great  esteem  among 
the  sailors)  resolved  to  risk  his  sovereign's  anger,  and  to  keep 
the  ships  afloat  at  his  own  charge,  rather  than  that  England 
should  run  the  peril  of  losing  their  protection. 


228  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Another  of  our  Elizabethan  sea-kings,  Sir  WaUer  Raleigh, 
was  at  that  time  commissioned  to  raise  and  equip  the  land- 
forces  of  Cornwall ;  but  we  may  well  believe  that  he  must  have 
availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  of  consuUing  with  the  lord 
admiral  and  the  other  high  officers,  which  was  offered  by  the 
English  fleet  putting  into  Plymouth;  and  we  may  look  on 
Raleigh  as  one  of  the  group  that  was  assembled  at  the  Bowling 
Green  on  the  Hoe.  Many  other  brave  men  and  skilful  mar- 
iners, besides  the  chiefs  whose  names  have  been  mentioned, 
were  there,  enjoying,  with  true  sailor-like  merriment,  their 
temporary  relaxation  from  duty.  In  the  harbor  lay  the  English 
fleet  with  which  they  had  just  returned  from  a  cruise  to 
Corunna  in  search  of  information  respecting  the  real  condition 
and  movements  of  the  hostile  Armada.  Lord  Howard  had  as- 
certained that  our  enemies,  though  tempest-tossed,  were  still 
formidably  strong;  and  fearing  that  part  of  their  fleet  might 
make  for  England  in  his  absence,  he  had  hurried  back  to  the 
Devonshire  coast.  He  resumed  his  station  at  Plymouth,  and 
waited  there  for  certain  tidings  of  the  Spaniard's  approach. 

A  match  at  bowls  was  being  played,  in  which  Drake  and 
other  high  officers  of  the  fleet  were  engaged,  when  a  small 
armed  vessel  was  seen  running  before  the  wind  into  Plymouth 
harbor  with  all  sails  set.  Her  commander  landed  in  haste,  and 
eagerly  sought  the  place  where  the  English  lord  admiral  and 
his  captains  were  standing.  His  name  was  Fleming;  he  was 
the  master  of  a  Scotch  privateer ;  and  he  told  the  English  offi- 
cers that  he  had  that  morning  seen  the  Spanish  Armada  off  the 
Cornish  coast.  At  this  exciting  information  the  captains  began 
to  hurry  down  to  the  water,  and  there  was  a  shouting  for  the 
ships'  boats ;  but  Drake  coolly  checked  his  comrades,  and  in- 
sisted that  the  match  should  be  played  out.  He  said  that  there 
was  plenty  of  time  both  to  win  the  game  and  beat  the  Spaniards. 
The  best  and  bravest  match  that  ever  was  scored  was  resumed 
accordingly.  Drake  and  his  friends  aimed  their  last  bowls  with 
the  same  steady,  calculating  coolness  with  which  they  were 
about  to  point  their  guns.  The  winning  cast  was  made ;  and 
then  they  went  on  board  and  prepared  for  action  with  their 
hearts  as  light  and  their  nerves  as  firm  as  they  had  been  on  the 
Hoe  Bowling  Green 

Meanwhile  the  messengers  and  signals  had  been  despatched 
fast  and  far  through  England,  to  warn  each  town  and  village 


THE  DECISIVE    ACTION   WITH    THE    ARMADA 
OFF  GRAVELINES,  JULY  30,    1588. 

Photo gra'ciire  from  the  origiiml  painting  by  OsuaJi^  IV.  Brierly. 


THE  DEFEAT   OF  THE   SPANISH  ARMADA 


229 


that  the  enemy  had  come  at  last.  In  every  sea-port  there  was 
instant  making  ready  by  land  and  by  sea ;  in  every  shire  and 
every  city  there  was  mstant  mustering  of  horse  and  man.* 
But  England's  best  defence  then,  as  ever,  was  in  her  fleet ;  and 
after  warpmg  laboriously  out  of  Plymouth  harbor  against  the 
wind,  the  lord  admiral  stood  westward  under  easy  sail,  keeping 
an  anxious  look-out  for  the  Armada,  the  approach  of  which 
was  soon  announced  by  Cornish  fisher-boats  and  signals  from 
the  Cornish  clififs. 

The  England  of  our  own  days  is  so  strong,  and  the  Spain 
of  our  own  days  is  so  feeble,  that  it  is  not  easy,  without  some 
reflection  and  care,  to  comprehend  the  full  extent  of  the  peril 
which  England  then  ran  from  the  power  and  the  ambition  of 
Spain,  or  to  appreciate  the  importance  of  that  crisis  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world.  We  had  then  no  Indian  or  colonial  empire, 
save  the  feeble  germs  of  our  North  American  settlements, 
which  Raleigh  and  Gilbert  had  recently  planted.  Scotland  was 
a  separate  kingdom  ;  and  Ireland  was  then  even  a  greater 
source  of  weakness  and  a  w^orse  nest  of  rebellion  than  she  has 
been  in  after  times  Queen  Elizabeth  had  found  at  her  acces- 
sion an  encumbered  revenue,  a  divided  people,  and  an  unsuc- 
cessful foreign  war,  in  which  the  last  remnant  of  our  pos- 
sessions in  France  had  been  lost;  she  had  also  a  formidable 
pretender  to  her  crown,  whose  interests  were  favored  by  all  the 
Roman  Catholic  powers ;  and  even  some  of  her  subjects  were 
warped  by  religious  bigotry  to  deny  her  title,  and  to  look  on 
her  as  a  heretical  usurper.  It  is  true  that  during  the  years  of 
her  reign  which  had  passed  away  before  the  attempted  inva- 
sion of  1588,  she  had  revived  the  commercial  prosperity,  the 
national  spirit,  and  the  national  loyalty  of  England.  But  her 
resources  to  cope  with  the  colossal  power  of  Philip  II.  still 
seemed  most  scanty ;  and  she  had  not  a  single  foreign  ally,  ex- 
cept the  Dutch,  who  were  themselves  struggling  hard,  and,  as 
it  seemed,  hopelessly,  to  maintain  their  revolt  against  Spain. 

On  the  other  hand,  Philip  II.  was  absolute  master  of  an 
empire  so  superior  to  the  other  states  of  the  world  in  extent, 

*  In  Macanlay's  Ballad  on  the  Spanish  Armada,  the  transmission  of 
the  tidings  of  the  Armada's  approach,  and  the  arming  of  the  English 
nation,  are  magnificently  described  The  progress  of  the  fire-signals  is 
depicted  in  lines  which  are  worthy  of  comparison  with  the  renowned 
passage  in  the  Agamemnon,  which  describes  the  transmission  of  the 
beacon-light  announcing  the  fall  of  Troy  from  Mount  Ida  to  Argos. 


230  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

in  resources,  and  especially  in  military  and  naval  forces,  as  to 
make  the  project  of  enlarging  that  empire  into  a  universal 
monarchy  seem  a  perfectly  feasible  scheme;  and  Philip  had 
both  the  ambition  to  form  that  project,  and  the  resolution  to 
devote  all  his  energies  and  all  his  means  to  its  realization. 
Since  the  downfall  of  the  Roman  empire  no  such  preponderat- 
ing power  had  existed  in  the  world.  During  the  mediseval  cen- 
turies the  chief  European  kingdoms  were  slowly  moulding 
themselves  out  of  the  feudal  chaos ;  and  though  the  wars  with 
each  other  were  numerous  and  desperate,  and  several  of  their 
respective  kmgs  figured  for  a  time  as  mighty  conquerors,  none 
of  them  in  those  times  acquired  the  consistency  and  perfect 
organization  which  are  requisite  for  a  long-sustained  career 
of  aggrandizement  After  the  consolidation  of  the  great  king- 
doms, they  for  some  time  kept  each  other  in  mutual  check. 
During  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  balancing 
system  was  successfully  practised  by  European  statesmen.  But 
Philip  II.  reigned,  France  had  become  so  miserably  weak 
through  her  civil  wars,  that  he  had  nothing  to  dread  from  the 
rival  state  which  had  so  long  curbed  his  father,  the  Emperor 
Charles  V.  In  Germany,  Italy,  and  Poland  he  had  either  zealous 
friends  and  dependents,  or  weak  and  divided  enemies.  Against 
the  Turks  he  had  gained  great  and  glorious  successes ;  and 
he  might  look  round  the  continent  of  Europe  without  discern- 
ing a  single  antagonist  of  whom  he  could  stand  in  awe.  Spain, 
when  he  acceded  to  the  throne,  was  at  the  zenith  of  her  power. 
The  hardihood  and  spirit  which  the  Aragonese,  the  Castilians, 
and  the  other  nations  of  the  peninsula  had  acquired  during 
centuries  of  free  institutions  and  successful  war  against  the 
Moors,  had  not  yet  become  obliterated.  Charles  V.  had,  in- 
deed, destroyed  the  liberties  of  Spain ;  but  that  had  been  done 
too  recently  for  its  full  evil  to  be  felt  in  Philip's  time.  A  people 
cannot  be  debased  in  a  single  generation;  and  the  Spaniards 
under  Charles  V.  and  Philip  II  proved  the  truth  of  the  remark, 
that  no  nation  is  ever  so  formidable  to  its  neighbors  for  a  time, 
as  a  nation  which,  after  being  trained  up  in  self-government, 
passes  suddenly  under  a  despotic  ruler  The  energy  of  demo- 
cratic institutions  survives  for  a  few  generations,  and  to  it 
are  superadded  the  decision  and  certainty  which  are  the  at- 
tributes of  government  when  all  its  powers  are  directed  by  a 
single  mind     It  is  true  that  this  preternatural  vigor  is  short- 


THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE   SPANISH  ARxMADA  231 

lived :  national  corruption  and  debasement  gradually  follow 
the  loss  of  the  national  liberties ;  but  there  is  an  interval  before 
their  workings  are  felt,  and  in  that  mterval  the  most  ambitious 
schemes  of  foreign  conquest  are  often  successfully  undertaken. 

Philip  had  also  the  advantage  of  finding  himself  at  the  head 
of  a  large  standing  army  m  a  perfect  state  of  discipline  and 
equipment,  in  an  age  when,  except  some  few  insignificant 
corps,  standing  armies  were  unknown  in  Christendom.  The 
renown  of  the  Spanish  troops  was  justly  high,  and  the  infantry 
in  particular  was  considered  the  best  in  the  world.  His  fleet, 
also,  was  far  more  numerous,  and  better  appointed  than  that 
of  any  other  European  power ;  and  both  his  soldiers  and  his 
sailors  had  the  confidence  in  themselves  and  their  commanders 
which  a  long  career  of  successful  warfare  alone  can  create. 

Besides  the  Spanish  crown,  Philip  succeeded  to  the  kingdom 
of  Naples  and  Sicily,  the  duchy  of  Milan,  Franche-Comte,  and 
the  Netherlands.  In  Africa  he  possessed  Tunis,  Oran,  the  Cape 
Verde,  and  the  Canary  Islands  ;  and  in  Asia,  the  Philippine  and 
Sunda  Islands,  and  a  part  of  the  Moluccas.  Beyond  the  Atlantic 
he  was  lord  of  the  most  splendid  portions  of  the  New  World, 
which  Columbus  found  "  for  Castile  and  Leon."  The  empires 
of  Peru  and  Mexico,  New  Spain,  and  Chili,  with  their  abundant 
mines  of  the  precious  metals,  Hispaniola  and  Cuba,  and  many 
other  of  the  American  islands,  were  provinces  of  the  sovereign 
of  Spain 

Philip  had,  indeed,  experienced  the  mortification  of  seeing 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Netherlands  revolt  against  his  authority, 
nor  could  he  succeed  in  bringing  back  beneath  the  Spanish 
sceptre  all  the  possessions  which  his  father  had  bequeathed  to 
him.  But  he  had  reconquered  a  large  number  of  the  towns  and 
districts  that  originally  took  up  arms  against  him  Belgium 
was  brought  more  thoroughly  into  implicit  obedience  to  Spam 
than  she  had  been  before  her  insurrection,  and  it  was  only 
Holland  and  the  six  other  northern  states  that  still  held  out 
against  his  arms  The  contest  had  also  formed  a  compact  and 
veteran  army  on  Philip's  side,  which,  under  his  great  general, 
the  Prince  of  Parma,  had  been  trained  to  act  together  under 
all  difficulties  and  all  vicissitudes  of  warfare,  and  on  whose 
steadiness  and  loyalt)''  perfect  reliance  might  be  placed 
throughout  any  enterprise,  however  difficult  and  tedious. 
Alexander  Farnese,  prince  of  Parma,  captain  general  of  the 


232 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Spanish  armies,  and  governor  of  the  Spanish  possessions  in  the 
Netherlands,  was  beyond  all  comparison  the  greatest  military- 
genius  of  his  age.  He  was  also  highly  distinguished  for  politi- 
cal wisdom  and  sagacity,  and  for  his  great  administrative  tal- 
ents. He  was  idolized  by  his  troops,  whose  affections  he  knew 
how  to  win  without  relaxing  their  discipline  or  dimmishing  his 
own  authority.  Pre-eminently  cool  and  circumspect  in  his 
plans,  but  swift  and  energetic  when  the  moment  arrived  for 
striking  a  decisive  blow,  neglecting  no  risk  that  caution  could 
provide  against,  conciliating  even  the  populations  of  the  dis- 
tricts which  he  attacked  by  his  scrupulous  good  faith,  his  mod- 
eration, and  his  address,  Farnese  was  one  of  the  most  formida- 
ble generals  that  ever  could  be  placed  at  the  head  of  an  army 
designed  not  only  to  win  battles,  but  to  effect  conquests. 
Happy  it  is  for  England  and  the  world  that  this  island  was 
saved  from  becoming  an  arena  for  the  exhibition  of  his  powers. 

Whatever  diminution  the  Spanish  empire  might  have  sus- 
tained m  the  Netherlands  seemed  to  be  more  than  compensated 
by  the  acquisition  of  Portugal,  which  Philip  had  completely 
conquered  m  1580.  Not  only  that  ancient  kingdom  itself,  but 
all  the  fruits  of  the  maritime  enterprises  of  the  Portuguese,  had 
fallen  into  Philip's  hands.  All  the  Portuguese  colonies  in 
America,  Africa,  and  the  East  Indies  acknowledged  the  sov- 
ereignty of  the  King  of  Spain,  who  thus  not  only  united  the 
whole  Iberian  peninsula  under  his  single  sceptre,  but  had  ac- 
quired a  transmarine  empire  little  inferior  in  wealth  and  extent 
to  that  which  he  had  inherited  at  his  accession.  The  splendid 
victory  which  his  fleet,  in  conjunction  with  the  papal  and  Vene- 
tian galleys,  had  gained  at  Lepanto  over  the  Turks,  had  de- 
servedly exalted  the  fame  of  the  Spanish  marine  throughout 
Christendom ;  and  when  Philip  had  reigned  thirty-five  years, 
the  vigor  of  his  empire  seemed  unbroken,  and  the  glory  of  the 
Spanish  arms  had  increased,  and  was  increasing  throughout 
the  world. 

One  nation  only  had  been  his  active,  his  persevering,  and  his 
successful  foe.  England  had  encouraged  his  revolted  subjects 
in  Flanders  against  him,  and  given  them  the  aid  in  men  and 
money,  without  which  they  must  soon  have  been  humbled  in 
the  dust.  English  ships  had  plundered  his  colonies ;  had  defied 
his  supremacy  in  the  New  World  as  well  as  the  Old ;  they  had 
inflicted  ignominious  defeats  on  his  squadrons ;  they  had  cap- 


THE  DEFEAT   OF  THE   SPANISH   ARMADA  233 

tured  his  cities,  and  burned  his  arsenals  on  the  very  coasts  of 
Spain.  The  Enghsh  had  made  PhiUp  himself  the  object  of  per- 
sonal insult.  He  was  held  up  to  ridicule  in  their  stage-plays  and 
masks,  and  these  scoffs  at  the  man  had  (as  is  not  unusual  in 
such  cases)  excited  the  anger  of  the  absolute  king  even  more 
vehemently  than  the  injuries  inflicted  on  his  power.*  Personal 
as  well  as  political  revenge  urged  him  to  attack  England.  Were 
she  once  subdued,  the  Dutch  must  submit ;  France  could  not 
cope  with  him,  the  empire  would  not  oppose  him  ;  and  universal 
dominion  seemed  sure  to  be  the  result  of  the  conquest  of  that 
malignant  island. 

There  was  yet  another  and  a  stronger  feeling  which  armed 
King  Philip  against  England.  He  was  one  of  the  sincerest  and 
one  of  the  sternest  bigots  of  his  age.  He  looked  on  himself,  and 
was  looked  on  by  others,  as  the  appointed  champion  to  extir- 
pate heresy  and  re-establish  the  papal  power  throughout 
Europe.  A  powerful  reaction  against  Protestantism  had  taken 
place  since  the  commencement  of  the  second  half  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  and  he  looked  on  himself  as  destined  to  com- 
plete it.  The  Reformed  doctrines  had  been  thoroughly  rooted 
out  from  Italy  and  Spain.  Belgium,  which  had  previously  been 
half  Protestant,  had  been  reconquered  both  in  allegiance  and 
creed  by  Philip,  and  had  become  one  of  the  most  Catholic  coun- 
tries in  the  world.  Half  Germany  had  been  won  back  to  the 
old  faith.  In  Savoy,  in  Switzerland,  and  in  many  other  coun- 
tries, the  progress  of  the  counter- Reformation  had  been  rapid 
and  decisive.  The  Catholic  league  seemed  victorious  in 
France.  The  papal  court  itself  had  shaken  off  the  supineness 
of  recent  centuries,  and  at  the  head  of  the  Jesuits  and  the  other 
new  ecclesiastical  orders,  was  displaying  a  vigor  and  a  boldness 
worthy  of  the  days  of  Hildebrand,  or  Innocent  III. 

Throughout  Continental  Europe,  the  Protestants,  discom- 
fited and  dismayed,  looked  to  England  as  their  protector  and 
refuge.  England  was  the  acknowledged  central  point  of 
Protestant  power  and  policy ;  and  to  conquer  England  was  to 
stab  Protestantism  to  the  very  heart.  Sixtus  V.,  the  then  reign- 
ing pope,  earnestly  exhorted  Philip  to  this  enterprise.  And 
when  the  tidings  reached  Italy  and  Spain  that  the  Protestant 
Queen  of  England  had  put  to  death  her  Catholic  prisoner, 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  the  fury  of  the  Vatican  and  Escurial 
*  See  Ranke's  "  Hist.  Popes,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  13S. 


234  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

knew  no  bounds.    Elizabeth  was  denounced  as  the  murderous 
heretic  whose  destruction  was  an  instant  duty.  A  formal  treaty 
was  concluded  (in  June,  1587),  by  which  the  pope  bound  him- 
self to  contribute  a  million  of  scudi  to  the  expenses  of  the  war; 
the  money  to  be  paid  as  soon  as  the  king  had  actual  possession 
of  an  English  port.    Philip,  on  his  part,  strained  the  resources 
of  his  vast  empire  to  the  utmost.    The  French  Catholic  chiefs 
eagerly  co-operated  with  him.     In  the  sea-ports  of  the  ]Med- 
iterranean,  and  along  almost  the  whole  coast  from  Gibraltar 
to  Jutland,  the  preparations  for  the  great  armament  were  urged 
forward  with  all  the  earnestness  of  religious  zeal  as  well  as  of 
angry  ambition.     "  Thus,"  says  the  German  historian  of  the 
popes,*  "  thus  did  the  united  powers  of  Italy  and  Spam,  from 
which  such  mighty  influences  had  gone  forth  over  the  whole 
world,  now  rouse  themselves  for  an  attack  upon  England! 
The  king  had  already  compiled,  from  the  archives  of  Simancas, 
a  statement  of  the  claims  which  he  had  to  the  throne  of  that 
country  on  the  extinction  of  the  Stuart  line ;  the  most  brilliant 
prospects,  especially  that  of  a  universal  dominion  of  the  seas, 
were  associated  in  his  mind  with  this  enterprise.     Everything 
seemed  to  conspire  to  such  an  end ;  the  predominancy  of  Ca- 
tholicism in  Germany,  the  renewed  attack  upon  the  Huguenots 
in  France,  the  attempt  upon  Geneva,  and  the  enterprise  against 
England,    At  the  same  moment,  a  thoroughly  Catholic  prince, 
Sigismund  III.,  ascended  the  throne  of  Poland,  with  the  pros- 
pect also  of  future  succession  to  the  throne  of  Sweden.     But 
whenever  any  principle  or  power,  be  it  what  it  may,  aims  al 
unlimited  supremacy  in  Europe,  some  vigorous  resistance  to  it, 
having  its  origin  in  the  deepest  springs  of  human  nature,  in- 
variably arises.    Philip  II.  had  to  encounter  newly-awakened 
powers,  braced  by  the  vigor  of  youth,  and  elevated  by  a  sense 
of  their  future  destiny.  The  intrepid  corsairs,  who  had  rendered 
every  sea  insecure,  now  clustered  round  the  coasts  of  their 
native  island.    The  Protestants  in  a  body — even  the  Puritans, 
although  they  had  been  subjected  to  as  severe  oppressions  as 
the  Catholics — rallied  round  their  queen,  who  now  gave  ad- 
mirable proof  of  her  masculine  courage,  and  her  princely  talent 
of  winning  the  affections,  and  leading  the  minds,  and  preserv- 
ing the  allegiance  of  men." 

Ranke  should  have  added  that  the  English  Catholics  at  this 
*  Ranke,  vol.  ii.,  p.  172. 


THE   DEFEAT   OF   THE   SPANISH   ARMADA 


=  0J 


crisis  proved  themselves  as  loyal  to  their  queen  and  true  to 
their  country  as  were  the  most  vehement  anti-Catholic  zealots 
in  the  island.  Some  few  traitors  there  were ;  but  as  a  body,  the 
Englishmen  who  held  the  ancient  faith  stood  the  trial  of  their 
patriotism  nobly.  The  lord  admiral  himself  was  a  Catholic, 
and  (to  adopt  the  words  of  Hallam)  "  then  it  was  that  the 
Catholics  in  every  county  repaired  to  the  standard  of  the  lord 
lieutenant,  imploring  that  they  might  not  be  suspected  of 
bartering  the  national  independence  for  their  religion  itself." 
The  Spaniard  found  no  partisans  in  the  country  which  he  aS' 
sailed,  nor  did  England,  self-wounded, 

"Lie  at  the  proud  foot  of  her  enemy.** 

Each  party  at  this  time  thought  it  politic  to  try  to  amuse  its 
adversary  by  pretending  to  treat  for  peace,  and  negotiations 
were  opened  at  Ostend  in  the  beginning  of  1588,  which  were 
prolonged  during  the  first  six  months  of  that  year.  Nothing 
real  was  efifected,  and  probably  nothing  real  had  been  intended 
to  be  efifected,  by  them. 

Meanwhile  in  England,  from  the  sovereign  on  the  throne  to 
the  peasant  in  the  cottage,  all  hearts  and  hands  made  ready 
to  meet  the  imminent  deadly  peril.  Circular  letters  from  the 
queen  were  sent  round  to  the  lords  lieutenant  of  the  several 
counties,  requiring  them  to  "  call  together  the  best  sort  of 
gentlemen  under  their  lieutenancy,  and  to  declare  unto  them 
these  great  preparations  and  arrogant  threatenings,  now  burst 
forth  in  action  upon  the  seas,  wherein  every  man's  particular 
state,  in  the  highest  degree,  could  be  touched  in  respect  of 
country,  liberty,  wives,  children,  lands,  lives,  and  (which  was 
specially  to  be  regarded)  the  profession  of  the  true  and  sincere 
religion  of  Christ.  And  to  lay  before  them  the  infinite  and 
unspeakable  miseries  that  would  fall  out  upon  any  such  change, 
which  miseries  were  evidently  seen  by  the  fruits  of  that  hard 
and  cruel  government  holden  in  countries  not  far  distant. 
We  do  look,"  said  the  queen,  "  that  the  most  part  of  them 
should  have,  upon  this  instant  extraordinary  occasion,  a 
larger  proportion  of  furniture,  both  for  horsemen  and  footmen, 
but  especially  horsemen,  than  hath  been  certified  thereby  to  be 
in  their  best  strength  against  any  attempt,  or  to  be  employed 
about  our  own  person,  or  otherwise.     Hereunto  as  we  doubt 


236  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

not  but  by  your  good  endeavors  they  will  be  the  rather  con- 
formable, so  also  we  assure  ourselves  that  Almighty  God  will 
so  bless  these  their  loyal  hearts  borne  towards  us,  their  loving 
sovereign,  and  their  natural  country,  that  all  the  attempts  of 
any  enemy  whatsoever  shall  be  made  void  and  frustrate,  to 
their  confusion,  your  comfort,  and  to  God's  high  glory."  * 

Letters  of  a  similar  kind  were  also  sent  by  the  council  to  each 
of  the  nobility,  and  to  the  great  cities.  The  primate  called  on 
the  clergy  for  their  contributions ;  and  by  every  class  of  the 
community  the  appeal  was  responded  to  with  liberal  zeal,  that 
offered  more  even  than  the  queen  required.  The  boasting 
threats  of  the  Spaniards  had  roused  the  spirit  of  the  nation,  and 
the  whole  people  "  were  thoroughly  irritated  to  stir  up  their 
whole  forces  for  their  defence  against  such  prognosticated  con- 
quests ;  so  that,  in  a  very  short  time,  all  her  whole  realm,  and 
every  corner,  were  furnished  with  armed  men,  on  horseback 
and  on  foot ;  and  those  continually  trained,  exercised,  and  put 
into  bands  in  warlike  manner,  as  in  no  age  ever  was  before  in 
this  realm.  There  was  no  sparing  of  money  to  provide  horse, 
armor,  weapons,  powder,  and  all  necessaries ;  no,  nor  want  of 
provision  of  pioneers,  carriages,  and  victuals,  in  every  county 
of  the  realm,  without  exception,  to  attend  upon  the  armies. 
And  to  this  general  furniture  every  man  voluntarily  offered, 
very  many  their  services  personally  without  wages,  others 
money  for  armor  and  weapons,  and  to  wage  soldiers ;  a  matter 
strange,  and  never  the  like  heard  of  in  this  realm  or  elsewhere. 
And  this  general  reason  moved  all  men  to  large  contributions, 
that  when  a  conquest  was  to  be  withstood  wherein  all  should 
be  lost,  it  was  no  time  to  spare  a  portion."  f 

Our  lion-hearted  queen  showed  herself  worthy  of  such  a 
people.  A  camp  was  formed  at  Tilbury ;  and  there  Elizabeth 
rode  through  the  ranks,  encouraging  her  captains  and  her 
soldiers  by  her  presence  and  her  words.  One  of  the  speeches 
which  she  addressed  to  them  during  this  crisis  has  been  pre- 
served ;  and,  though  often  quoted,  it  must  not  be  omitted  here. 

"  My  loving  people,"  she  said,  "  we  have  been  persuaded  by 
some  that  are  careful  of  our  safety  to  take  heed  how  we  com- 

*Strype,  cited  in  Southey's  "  Naval  History." 

t  Copy  of  contemporary  letter  in  the  Harleian  Collection,  quoted  by 
Southey. 


THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE   SPANISH   ARMADA  237 

mit  ourselves  to  armed  multitudes,  for  fear  of  treachery ;  but 
I  assure  you  I  do  not  desire  to  live  to  distrust  my  faithful  and 
loving  people.  Let  tyrants  fear!  I  have  alv^ays  so  behaved 
myself,  that,  under  God,  I  have  placed  my  chiefest  strength, 
and  safeguard  in  the  loyal  hearts  and  good-will  of  my  subjects; 
and,  therefore,  I  am  come  among  you,  as  you  see,  at  this  time, 
not  for  my  recreation  and  disport,  but  being  resolved,  in  the 
midst  and  heat  of  the  battle,  to  live  or  die  among  you  all,  to 
lay  down  for  my  God,  for  my  kingdom,  and  for  my  people,  my 
honor  and  my  blood  even  in  the  dust.  I  know  I  have  the  body 
but  of  a  weak  and  feeble  woman,  but  I  have  the  heart  and 
stomach  of  a  king,  and  of  a  King  of  England,  too,  and  think  it 
foul  scorn  that  Parma,  or  Spain,  or  any  prince  of  Europe  should 
dare  to  invade  the  borders  of  my  realm,  to  which  rather  than 
any  dishonor  shall  grow  by  me,  I  myself  will  take  up  arms,  I 
myself  will  be  your  general,  judge,  and  rewarder  of  every  one  of 
your  virtues  in  the  field.  I  know  already,  for  your  forwardness, 
you  have  deserved  rewards  and  crowns ;  and  we  do  assure  you, 
on  the  word  of  a  prince,  they  shall  be  duly  paid  you.  In  the 
mean  time,  my  lieutenant  general  shall  be  in  my  stead,  than 
whom  never  prince  commanded  a  more  noble  or  worthy  sub- 
ject, not  doubting  but  by  your  obedience  to  my  general,  by 
your  concord  in  the  camp,  and  your  valor  in  the  field,  we  shall 
shortly  have  a  famous  victory  over  those  enemies  of  my  God, 
of  my  kingdom,  and  of  my  people." 

Some  of  Elizabeth's  advisers  recommended  that  the  whole 
care  and  resources  of  the  government  should  be  devoted  to  the 
equipment  of  the  armies,  and  that  the  enemy,  when  he  at- 
tempted to  land,  should  be  welcomed  with  a  battle  on  the  shore. 
But  the  wiser  counsels  of  Raleigh  and  others  prevailed,  who 
urged  the  importance  of  fitting  out  a  fleet  that  should  encounter 
the  Spaniards  at  sea,  and,  if  possible,  prevent  them  from  ap- 
proaching the  land  at  all.  In  Raleigh's  great  work  on  the 
"  History  of  the  World,"  he  takes  occasion,  when  discussing 
some  of  the  events  of  the  first  Punic  war,  to  give  his  reasonings 
on  the  proper  policy  of  England  when  menaced  with  invasion. 
Without  doubt,  we  have  there  the  substance  of  the  advice 
which  he  gave  to  Elizabeth's  council ;  and  the  remarks  of  such 
a  man  on  such  a  subject  have  a  general  and  enduring  interest, 
beyond  the  immediate  crisis  which  called  them  forth.  Raleigh 
says  :*  "  Surely  I  hold  that  the  best  way  is  to  keep  our  enemies 
*  "  Historic  of  the  World,"  pp.  799-801. 


238  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

from  treading  upon  our  ground ;  wherein  if  we  fail,  then  must 
we  seek  to  make  him  wish  that  he  had  stayed  at  his  own  home. 
In  such  a  case,  if  it  should  happen,  our  judgments  are  to  weigh 
many  particular  circumstances,  that  belongs  not  unto  this  dis- 
course. But  making  the  question  general,  the  positive. 
Whether  England,  zvithout  the  help  of  her  fleet,  be  able  to 
debar  an  enemy  from  landuig,  I  hold  that  it  is  unable  so  to 
do,  and  therefore  I  think  it  most  dangerous  to  make  the  ad- 
venture ;  for  the  encouragement  of  a  first  victory  to  an  enemy, 
and  the  discouragement  of  being  beaten  to  the  invaded,  may 
draw  after  it  a  most  perilous  consequence. 

"  Great  difference  I  know  there  is,  and  a  diverse  considera- 
tion to  be  had,  between  such  a  country  as  France  is,  strength- 
ened with  many  fortified  places,  and  this  of  ours,  where  our 
ramparts  are  but  the  bodies  of  men.  But  I  say  that  an  army  to 
be  transported  over  sea,  and  to  be  landed  again  in  an  enemy's 
country,  and  the  place  left  to  the  choice  of  the  invader,  cannot 
be  resisted  on  the  coast  of  England  without  a  fleet  to  impeach 
it ;  no,  nor  on  the  coast  of  France,  or  any  other  country,  except 
every  creek,  port,  or  sandy  bay  had  a  powerful  army  in  each 
of  them  to  make  opposition.  For  let  the  supposition  be  granted 
that  Kent  is  able  to  furnish  twelve  thousand  foot,  and  that 
those  twelve  thousand  be  layed  in  the  three  best  landing-places 
within  that  country,  to  wit,  three  thousand  at  Margat,  three 
thousand  at  the  Nesse,  and  six  thousand  at  Foulkstone,  that  is, 
somewhat  equally  distant  from  them  both,  as  also  that  two 
of  these  troops  (unless  some  other  order  be  thought  more  fit) 
be  directed  to  strengthen  the  third,  when  they  shall  see  the 
enemy's  fleet  to  head  towards  it:  I  say,  that  notwithstanding 
this  provision,  if  the  enemy,  setting  sail  from  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
in  the  first  watch  of  the  night,  and  towing  their  long  boats  at 
their  sterns,  shall  arrive  by  dawn  of  day  at  the  Nesse,  and  thrust 
their  army  on  shore  there,  it  will  be  hard  for  those  three  thou- 
sand that  are  at  IMargat  (twenty-and-four  long  miles  from 
thence)  to  come  time  enough  to  re-enforce  their  fellows  at  the 
Nesse.  Nay,  how  shall  they  at  Foulkstone  be  able  to  do  it,  who 
are  nearer  by  more  than  half  the  way  ?  seeing  that  the  enemy, 
at  his  first  arrival,  will  either  make  his  entrance  by  force,  with 
three  or  four  shot  of  great  artillery,  and  quickly  put  the  first 
three  thousand  that  are  intrenched  at  the  Nesse  to  run,  or  else 
give  them  so  much  ta'do  that  they  shall  be  glad  to  send  for 


THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPANISH  ARMADA  239 

help  to  Foulkstone,  and  perhaps  to  Margat,  whereby  those 
places  will  be  left  bare.  Now,  let  us  suppose  that  all  the  twelve 
thousand  Kentish  soldiers  arrive  at  the  Nesse  ere  the  enemy 
can  be  ready  to  disembarque  his  army,  so  that  he  will  find  it 
unsafe  to  land  in  the  face  of  so  many  prepared  to  withstand 
him,  yet  must  we  believe  that  he  will  play  the  best  of  his  own 
game  (having  liberty  to  go  which  way  he  list),  and  under 
covert  of  the  night,  set  sail  towards  the  east,  where  what  shall 
hinder  him  to  take  ground  either  at  Margat,  the  Downes,  or 
elsewhere,  before  they  at  the  Nesse  can  be  well  aware  of  his 
departure  ?  Certainly  there  is  nothing  more  easy  than  to  do  it. 
Yea,  the  like  may  be  said  of  Weymouth,  Purbeck,  Poole,  and 
of  all  landing-places  on  the  southwest ;  for  there  is  no  man  ig- 
norant that  ships,  without  putting  themselves  out  of  breath, 
will  easily  outrun  the  soldiers  that  coast  them,  '  Les  armces 
nc  folent  point  en  poste,'  '  Armies  neither  fly,  nor  run  post,' 
saith  a  marshal  of  France,  .(^.nd  I  know  it  to  be  true,  that  a 
fleet  of  ships  may  be  seen  at  sunset,  and  after  it  at  the  Lizard, 
yet  by  the  next  morning  they  may  recover  Portland,  whereas 
an  army  of  foot  shall  not  be  able  to  march  it  in  six  dayes. 
Again,  when  those  troops  lodged  on  the  sea-shores  shall  be 
forced  to  run  from  place  to  place  in  vain,  after  a  fleet  of  ships, 
they  will  at  length  sit  down  in  the  midway,  and  leave  all  at 
adventure.  But  say  it  were  otherwise,  that  the  invading  enemy 
will  offer  to  land  in  some  such  place  where  there  shall  be  an 
army  of  ours  ready  to  receive  him ;  yet  it  cannot  be  doubted 
but  that  when  the  choice  of  all  our  trained  bands,  and  the 
choice  of  our  commanders  and  captains,  shall  be  drawn  to- 
gether (as  they  were  at  Tilbury  in  the  year  1588)  to  attend  the 
person  of  the  prince,  and  for  the  defence  of  the  city  of  London, 
they  that  remain  to  guard  the  coast  can  be  of  no  such  force 
as  to  encounter  an  army  like  unto  that  wherewith  it  was  in- 
tended that  the  Prince  of  Parma  should  have  landed  in  Eng- 
land. 

"  For  end  of  this  digression,  I  hope  that  this  question  shall 
never  come  to  trial :  his  majesty's  many  movable  forts  will  for- 
bid the  experience.  And  although  the  English  will  no  less 
disdain,  than  any  nation  under  heaven  can  do,  to  be  beaten 
upon  their  own  ground,  or  elsewhere,  by  a  foreign  enemy,  yet 
to  entertain  those  that  shall  assail  us,  with  their  own  beef  in 
their  bellies,  and  before  they  eat  of  our  Kentish  capons,  I  take 


240  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

it  to  be  the  wisest  way  ;  to  do  which  his  majesty,  after  God,  will 
employ  his  good  ships  on  the  sea,  and  not  trust  in  any  intrench- 
ment  upon  the  shore." 

The  introduction  of  steam  as  a  propelling  power  at  sea  has 
added  ten-fold  weight  to  these  arguments  of  Raleigh.  On  the 
other  hand,  a  well-constructed  system  of  railways,  especially 
of  coast  lines,  aided  by  the  operation  of  the  electric  telegraph, 
would  give  facilities  for  concentrating  a  defensive  army  to  op- 
pose an  enemy  on  landing,  and  for  moving  troops  from  place 
to  place  in  observation  of  the  movements  of  the  hostile  fleet, 
such  as  would  have  astonished  Sir  Walter,  even  more  than  the 
sight  of  vessels  passing  rapidly  to  and  fro  without  the  aid  of 
wind  or  tide.  The  observation  of  the  French  marshal,  whom  he 
quotes,  is  now  no  longer  correct.  Armies  can  be  made  to  pass 
from  place  to  place  almost  with  the  speed  of  wings,  and  far 
more  rapidly  than  any  post-travelling  that  was  known  in  the 
Elizabethan  or  any  other  age.  Still,  the  presence  of  a  sufficient 
armed  force  at  the  right  spot,  at  the  right  time,  can  never  be 
made  a  matter  of  certainty,  and  even  after  the  changes  that  have 
taken  place,  no  one  can  doubt  but  that  the  policy  of  Raleigh 
is  that  which  England  should  ever  seek  to  follow  in  defensive 
war.  At  the  time  of  the  Armada,  that  policy  certainly  saved  the 
country,  if  not  from  conquest,  at  least  from  deplorable  calam- 
ities. If  indeed  the  enemy  had  landed,  we  may  be  sure  that 
he  would  have  been  heroically  opposed.  But  history  shows 
us  so  many  examples  of  the  superiority  of  veteran  troops  over 
new  levies,  however  numerous  and  brave^  that,  without  dis- 
paraging our  countrymen's  soldierly  merits,  we  may  well  be 
thankful  that  no  trial  of  them  was  then  made  on  English  land. 
Especially  must  we  feel  this  when  we  contrast  the  high  military 
genius  of  the  Prince  of  Parma,  who  would  have  headed  the 
Spaniards,  with  the  imbecility  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  to  whom 
the  deplorable  spirit  of  favoritism,  which  formed  the  great 
blemish  on  Elizabeth's  character,  had  then  committed  the 
chief  command  of  the  English  armies. 

The  ships  of  the  royal  navy  at  this  time  amounted  to  no 
more  than  thirty-six ;  but  the  most  serviceable  merchant  ves- 
sels were  collected  from  all  the  ports  of  the  country ;  and  the 
citizens  of  London,  Bristol,  and  the  other  great  seats  of  com- 
merce showed  as  liberal  a  zeal  in  equipping  and  manning  ves- 
sels as  the  nobility  and  gentry  displayed  in  mustering  forces 


THE  DEFEAT   OF  THE   SPANISH   ARMADA  241 

by  land.  The  seafaring  population  of  the  coast,  of  every  rank 
and  station,  was  animated  by  the  same  ready  spirit;  and  the 
whole  number  of  seamen  who  came  forward  to  man  the  Eng- 
lish fleet  was  17,472.  The  number  of  the  ships  that  were  col- 
lected was  191,  and  the  total  amount  of  their  tonnage  31,985. 
There  was  one  ship  in  the  fleet  (the  Triumph)  of  1,100  tons,  one 
of  1,000,  one  of  900,  two  of  800  each,  three  of  600,  five  of  500, 
five  of  400,  six  of  300,  six  of  250,  twenty  of  200,  and  the  residue 
of  inferior  burden.  Application  was  made  to  the  Dutch  for  as- 
sistance ;  and,  as  Stowe  expresses  it,  "  The  Hollanders  came 
roundly  in,  with  threescore  sail,  brave  ships  of  war,  fierce  and 
full  of  spleen,  not  so  much  for  England's  aid,  as  in  just  occasion 
for  their  own  defence :  these  men  foreseeing  the  greatness  of 
the  danger  that  might  ensue  if  the  Spaniards  should  chance  to 
win  the  day  and  get  the  mastery  over  them ;  in  due  regard 
whereof,  their  manly  courage  was  inferior  to  none." 

We  have  more  minute  information  of  the  number  and  equip- 
ment of  the  hostile  forces  than  we  have  of  our  own.  In  the 
first  volume  of  Hakluyt's  "  Voyages,"  dedicated  to  Lord  Ef- 
fingham, who  commanded  against  the  Armada,  there  is  given 
(from  the  contemporary  foreign  writer,  Meteran)  a  more  com- 
plete and  detailed  catalogue  than  has  perhaps  ever  appeared 
of  a  similar  armament. 

"  A  verv  large  and  particular  description  of  this  navie  was 
put  in  print  and  published  by  the  Spaniards,  wherein  were  set 
downe  the  number,  names,  and  burthens  of  the  shippes,  the 
number  of  mariners  and  soldiers  throughout  the  whole  fleete ; 
likewise  the  quantitie  of  their  ordinance,  of  their  armor,  of  bul- 
lets, of  match,  of  gun-poulder,  of  victuals,  and  of  all  their 
navall  furniture  was  in  the  saide  description  particularized. 
Unto  all  these  were  added  the  names  of  the  governours,  cap- 
taines,  noblemen,  and  gentlemen  voluntaries,  of  whom  there 
was  so  great  a  multitude,  that  scarce  was  there  any  family  of 
accompt,  or  any  one  principall  man  throughout  all  Spaine,  that 
had  not  a  brother,  sonne,  or  kinsman  in  that  fleete ;  who  all  of 
them  were  in  good  hope  to  purchase  unto  themselves  in  that 
navie  (as  they  termed  it)  invincible,  endless  glory  and  renown, 
and  to  possess  themselves  of  great  seigniories  and  riches  in 
England  and  in  the  Low  Countreys.  But  because  the  said  de- 
scription was  translated  and  published  out  of  Spanish  into 
16 


242  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

divers  other  languages,  we  will  here  only  make  an  abridge- 
ment or  brief  rehearsal  thereof. 

"  Portugall  furnished  and  set  foorth  under  the  conduct  of 
the  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia,  generall  of  the  fleete,  lo  galeons, 
2  zabraes,  1300  mariners,  3300  souldiers,  300  great  pieces,  with 
all  requisite  furniture. 

"  Biscay,  under  the  conduct  of  John  Martines  de  Ricalde, 
admiral  of  the  whole  fleete,  set  forth  10  galeons,  4  pataches,  700 
mariners,  2000  souldiers,  250  great  pieces,  &c. 

"  Guipusco,  under  the  conduct  of  Michael  de  Oquendo,  10 
galeons,  4  pataches,  700  mariners,  2000  souldiers,  310  great 
pieces. 

"  Italy,  with  the  Levant  islands,  under  Martine  de  Verten- 
dona,  10  galeons,  800  mariners,  2000  souldiers,  310  great 
pieces,  &c, 

"  Castile,  under  Diego  Flores  de  Valdez,  14  galeons,  2 
pataches,  1700  mariners,  2400  souldiers,  and  380  great  pieces, 
&c. 

"  Andaluzia,  under  the  conduct  of  Petro  de  Valdez,  10  gale- 
ons, I  patache,  800  mariners,  2400  souldiers,  280  great  pieces, 
&c. 

"  Item,  under  the  conduct  of  John  Lopez  de  Medina,  23  great 
Flemish  hulkes,  with  700  mariners,  3200  souldiers,  and  400 
great  pieces. 

"  Item,  under  Hugo  de  Moncada,  4  galliasses,  containing 
1200  gally-slaves,  460  mariners,  870  souldiers,  200  great  pieces, 
&c. 

"  Item,  under  Diego  de  Mandrana,  4  gallies  of  Portugall, 
with  888  gally-slaves,  360  mariners,  20  great  pieces,  and  other 
requisite  furniture. 

"  Item,  under  Anthonie  de  Mendoza,  22  pataches  and  za- 
braes, with  574  mariners,  488  souldiers,  and  193  great  pieces. 

"  Besides  the  ships  aforementioned,  there  were  20  caravels 
rowed  with  oares,  being  appointed  to  performe  necessary  ser- 
vices under  the  greater  ships,  insomuch  that  all  the  ships  ap- 
pertayning  to  this  navie  amounted  unto  the  summe  of  150, 
eche  one  being  suf^ciently  provided  of  furniture  and  victuals. 

"  The  number  of  mariners  in  the  saide  fleete  were  above  8000, 
of  slaves  2088,  of  souldiers  20,000  (besides  noblemen  and  gen- 
tlemen voluntaries),  of  great  cast  pieces  2600.  The  foresaid 
ships  were  of  an  huge  and  incredible  capacitie  and  receipt,  for 


THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPANISH  ARMADA 


243 


the  whole  fleete  was  large  enough  to  containe  the  burthen  of 
60,000  tunnes. 

"  The  galeons  were  64  in  number,  being  of  an  huge  bignesse, 
and  very  flately  built,  being  of  marveilous  force  also,  and  so 
high  that  they  resembled  great  castles,  most  fit  to  defend  them- 
selves and  to  withstand  any  assault,  but  in  giving  any  other 
ships  the  encounter  farr  inferiour  unto  the  English  and  Dutch 
ships,  which  can  with  great  dexteritie  weild  and  turne  them- 
selves at  all  assayes.  The  upper  worke  of  the  said  galeons  was 
of  thicknesse  and  strength  sufficient  to  beare  off  musket-shot. 
The  lower  worke  and  the  timbers  thereof  were  out  of  measure 
strong,  being  framed  of  plankes  and  ribs  foure  or  five  foote  in 
thicknesse,  insomuch  that  no  bullets  could  pierce  them  but  such 
as  were  discharged  hard  at  hand,  which  afterward  prooved  true, 
for  a  great  number  of  bullets  were  founde  to  sticke  fast  within 
the  massie  substance  of  those  thicke  plankes.  Great  and  well- 
pitched  cables  were  twined  about  the  masts  of  their  shippes,  to 
strengthen  them  against  the  battery  of  shot. 

"  The  galliasses  were  of  such  bignesse  that  they  contained 
within  them  chambers,  chapels,  turrets,  pulpits,  and  other  com- 
modities of  great  houses.  The  galliasses  were  rowed  with  great 
oares,  there  being  in  eche  one  of  them  300  slaves  for  the  same 
purpose,  and  were  able  to  do  great  service  with  the  force  of 
their  ordinance.  All  these,  together  with  the  residue  afore- 
named, were  furnished  and  beautified  with  trumpets,  streamers, 
banners,  warlike  ensignes,  and  other  such  like  ornaments. 

"  Their  pieces  of  brazen  ordinance  were  1600,  and  of  yron 
a  1000. 

"  The  bullets  thereto  belonging  were  120,000. 

"  Item  of  gun-poulder,  5600  quintals.  Of  matche,  1200  quin- 
tals. Of  muskets  and  kaleivers,  7000.  Of  haleberts  and  par- 
tisans, 10,000. 

"  Moreover,  they  had  great  stores  of  canons,  double-canons, 
culverings  and  field-pieces  for  land  services. 

"  Likewise  they  were  provided  of  all  instruments  necessary 
on  land  to  conveigh  and  transport  their  furniture  from  place 
to  place,  as  namely  of  carts,  wheeles,  wagons,  &c.  Also  they 
had  spades,  mattocks,  and  baskets  to  set  pioners  on  worke. 
They  had  in  like  sort  great  store  of  mules  and  horses,  and  what- 
soever else  was  requisite  for  a  land  armie.  They  were  so  well 
stored  of  biscuit,  that  for  the  space  of  halfe  a  yeere  they  might 


244  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

allow  eche  person  in  the  whole  fleete  halfe  a  quintall  every 
moneth,  whereof  the  whole  summe  amounteth  unto  an  hun- 
dreth  thousand  quintals. 

"  Likewise  of  wine  they  had  147,000  pipes,  sufficient  also  for 
halfe  a  yeere's  expedition.  Of  bacon,  6500  quintals.  Of  cheese, 
3000  quintals.  Besides  fish,  rise,  beanes,  pease,  oile,  vinegar, 
&c. 

"  Moreover,  they  had  12,000  pipes  of  fresh  water,  and  all 
other  necessary  provision,  as  namely  candles,  lanternes,  lampes, 
sailes,  hempe,  oxe-hides,  and  lead,  to  stop  holes  that  should 
be  made  with  the  battery  of  gunshot.  To  be  short,  they 
brought  all  things  expedient,  either  for  a  fleete  by  sea,  or  for 
an  armie  by  land. 

"  This  navie  (as  Diego  Pimentelli  afterward  confessed)  was 
esteemed  by  the  king  himselfe  to  containe  32,000  persons,  and 
to  cost  him  every  day  30,000  ducates. 

"  There  were  in  the  said  navie  five  terzaes  of  Spaniards 
(which  terzaes  the  Frenchmen  call  regiments),  under  the  com- 
mand of  five  governours,  termed  by  the  Spaniards  masters  of 
the  field,  and  among  the  rest  there  were  many  olde  and  expert 
souldiers  chosen  out  of  the  garisons  of  Sicilie,  Naples,  and  Ter- 
gera.  Their  captaines  or  colonels  were  Diego  Pimentelli,  Don 
Francisco  de  Toledo,  Don  Alongo  de  Lucon,  Don  Nicolas  de 
Isla,  Don  Augustin  de  Mexia,  who  had  eche  of  them  thirty- 
two  companies  under  their  conduct.  Besides  the  which  com- 
panies, there  were  many  bands  also  of  Castilians  and  Portugals, 
every  one  of  which  had  their  peculiar  governours,  captains,  of- 
ficers, colors,  and  weapons." 

While  this  huge  armament  was  making  ready  in  the  southern 
ports  of  the  Spanish  dominions,  the  Duke  of  Parma,  with  al- 
most incredible  toil  and  skill,  collected  a  squadron  of  war-ships 
at  Dunkirk,  and  a  large  flotilla  of  other  ships  and  of  flat-bot- 
tomed boats  for  the  transport  to  England  of  the  picked  troops, 
which  were  designed  to  be  the  main  instruments  in  subduing 
England.  Thousands  of  workmen  were  employed,  night  and 
day,  in  the  construction  of  these  vessels  in  the  ports  of  Flanders 
and  Brabant.  One  hundred  of  the  kind  called  hendes,  built  at 
Antwerp,  Bruges,  and  Ghent,  and  laden  with  provision  and  am- 
munition, together  with  sixty  flat-bottomed  boats,  each  capable 
of  carrying  thirty  horses,  were  brought,  by  means  of  canals  and 
fosses  dug  expressly  for  the  purpose,  to  Nieuport  and  Dunkirk. 


THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPANISH  ARMADA  245 

One  hundred  smaller  vessels  were  equipped  at  the  former  place, 
and  thirty-two  at  Dunkirk,  provided  with  twenty  thousand  empty 
barrels  and  with  materials  for  making  pontoons,  for  stopping 
up  the  harbors  and  raising  forts  and  entrenchments.  The 
army  which  these  vessels  were  designed  to  convey  to  England 
amounted  to  thirty  thousand  strong,  besides  a  body  of  four 
thousand  cavalry,  stationed  at  Courtroi,  composed  chiefly  of  the 
ablest  veterans  of  Europe;  invigorated  by  rest  (the  siege  of 
Sluys  having  been  the  only  enterprise  in  which  they  were 
employed  during  the  last  campaign)  and  excited  by  the  hopes 
of  plunder  and  the  expectation  of  certain  conquest. 

Philip  had  been  advised  by  the  deserter,  Sir  William  Stanley, 
not  to  attack  England  in  the  first  instance,  but  first  to  effect  a 
landing  and  secure  a  strong  position  in  Ireland;  his  admiral, 
Santa  Cruz,  had  recommended  him  to  make  sure,  in  the  first 
instance,  of  some  large  harbor  on  the  coast  of  Holland  or  Zea- 
land, where  the  Armada,  having  entered  the  Channel,  might 
find  shelter  in  case  of  storm,  and  whence  it  could  sail  withotit 
difficulty  for  England;  but  Philip  rejected  both  these  counsels, 
and  directed  that  England  itself  should  be  made  the  immediate 
object  of  attack;  and  on  the  20th  of  May  the  Armada  left  the 
Tagus,  in  the  pomp  and  pride  of  supposed  invincibility,  and 
amid  the  shouts  of  thousands  who  believed  that  England  was 
already  conquered.  But,  steering  to  the  northward,  and  before 
it  was  clear  of  the  coast  of  Spain,  the  Armada  was  assailed  by  a 
violent  storm,  and  driven  back  with  considerable  damage  to 
the  ports  of  Biscay  and  Galicia.  It  had,  however,  sustained  its 
heaviest  loss  before  it  left  the  Tagus,  in  the  death  of  the  veteran 
admiral  Santa  Cruz,  who  had  been  destined  to  guide  it  against 
England. 

This  experienced  sailor,  notwithstanding  his  diligence  and 
success,  had  been  unable  to  keep  pace  with  the  impatient  ardor 
of  his  master,  Philip  II.  had  approached  him  with  his  dilatori- 
ness,  and  had  said,  with  ungrateful  harshness,  "  You  make  an 
ill  return  for  all  my  kindness  to  you."  These  words  cut  the 
veteran's  heart,  and  proved  fatal  to  Santa  Cruz.  Overwhelmed 
with  fatigue  and  grief,  he  sickened  and  died.  Philip  II.  had 
replaced  him  by  Alonzo  Perez  de  Gusman,  Duke  of  Medina 
Sidonia,  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  Spanish  grandees,  but 
wholly  unqualified  to  command  such  an  expedition.  He  had, 
however,  as  his  lieutenants  two  seamen  of  proved  skill  and 


246  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

bravery,  Juan  de  Martinez  Recalde,  of  Biscay,  and  Miguel 
Oquendo,  of  Guipuzcoa. 

The  report  of  the  storm  which  had  taken  back  the  Armada 
reached  England  with  much  exaggeration,  and  it  was  supposed 
by  some  of  the  queen's  counsellors  that  the  invasion  would  now 
be  deferred  to  another  year.  But  Lord  Howard  of  Effingham, 
the  lord  high  admiral  of  the  English  fleet,  judged  more  wisely 
that  the  danger  was  not  yet  passed,  and,  as  already  mentioned, 
had  the  moral  courage  to  refuse  to  dismantle  his  principal  ships, 
though  he  received  orders  to  that  effect.  But  it  was  not  How- 
ard's design  to  keep  the  English  fleet  in  costly  inaction  and  to 
wait  patiently  in  our  own  harbors  till  the  Spaniards  had  re- 
cruited their  strength  and  sailed  forth  again  to  attack  us.  The 
English  seamen  of  that  age  (like  their  successors)  loved  to  strike 
better  than  to  parry,  though,  when  emergency  required,  they 
could  be  patient  and  cautious  in  their  bravery.  It  was  resolved 
to  proceed  to  Spain  to  learn  the  enemy's  real  condition,  and  to 
deal  him  any  blow  for  which  there  might  be  opportunity.  In 
this  bold  policy  we  may  well  believe  him  to  have  been  eagerly 
seconded  by  those  who  commanded  under  him.  Howard  and 
Drake  sailed  accordingly  to  Corunna,  hoping  to  surprise  and 
attack  some  part  of  the  Armada  in  that  harbor;  but  when  near 
the  coast  of  Spain,  the  north  wind,  which  had  blown  up  to  that 
time,  veered  suddenly  to  the  south ;  and,  fearing  that  the  Span- 
iards might  put  to  sea  and  pass  him  unobserved,  Howard  re- 
turned to  the  entrance  of  the  Channel,  where  he  cruised  for 
some  time  on  the  lookout  for  the  enemy.  In  part  of  a  letter 
written  by  him  at  this  period,  he  speaks  of  the  difficulty  of 
guarding  so  large  a  breadth  of  sea — a  difficulty  that  ought  not 
to  be  forgotten  when  modern  schemes  of  defence  against  hos- 
tile fleets  from  the  south  are  discussed.  "  I  myself,"  he  wrote, 
"  do  lie  in  the  midst  of  the  Channel,  with  the  greatest  force ; 
Sir  Francis  Drake  hath  twenty  ships  and  four  or  five  pinnaces, 
which  lie  towards  Ushant;  and  Mr.  Hawkins,  with  as  many 
more,  lieth  towards  Scilly.  Thus  we  are  fain  to  do,  or  else  with 
this  wind  they  might  pass  us  by,  and  we  never  the  wiser.  The 
Sleeve  is  another  manner  of  thing  than  it  was  taken  for:  we  find 
it  by  experience  and  daily  observation  to  be  loo  miles  over — 
a  large  room  for  me  to  look  unto!  "  But,  after  some  time,  fur- 
ther reports  that  the  Spaniards  were  inactive  in  their  harbor, 
where  they  were  suffering  severely  from  sickness,  caused  How- 


THE  DEFEAT   OF  THE   SPANISH   ARMADA  247 

arc!  also  to  relax  in  his  vigilance;  and  he  returned  to  llynioutli 
with  the  greater  part  of  his  fleet. 

On  the  I2th  of  July,  the  Armada,  having  completely  refitted, 
sailed  again  for  the  Channel,  and  reached  it  without  obstruction 
or  observation  by  the  English. 

The  design  of  the  Spaniards  was  that  the  Armada  should 
give  them,  at  least  for  a  time,  the  command  of  the  sea,  and 
that  it  should  join  the  squadron  that  Parma  had  collected  off 
Calais.  Then,  escorted  by  an  overpowering  naval  force,  Parma 
and  his  army  were  to  embark  in  their  flotilla,  and  cross  the  sea 
to  England,  where  they  were  to  be  landed,  together  with  the 
troops  which  the  Armada  brought  from  the  ports  of  Spain.  The 
scheme  was  not  dissimilar  to  one  formed  against  England  a 
little  more  than  two  centuries  afterwards. 

As  Napoleon,  in  1805,  waited  with  his  army  and  flotilla  at 
Boulogne,  looking  for  Villeneuve  to  drive  away  the  English 
cruisers,  and  secure  him  a  passage  across  the  Channel,  so 
Parma,  in  1588,  waited  for  Medina  Sidonia  to  drive  away  the 
Dutch  and  English  squadrons  that  watched  his  flotilla,  and  to 
enable  his  veterans  to  cross  the  sea  to  the  land  that  they  were 
to  conquer.  Thanks  to  Providence,  in  each  case  England's 
enemy  waited  in  vain ! 

Although  the  numbers  of  sail  which  the  queen's  govern- 
ment and  the  patriotic  zeal  of  volunteers  had  collected  for  the 
defence  of  England  exceeded  the  number  of  sail  in  the  Span- 
ish fleet,  the  English  ships  were,  collectively,  far  inferior  in 
size  to  their  adversaries,  their  aggregate  tonnage  being  less 
by  half  than  that  of  the  enemy.  In  the  number  of  guns  and 
weight  of  metal,  the  disproportion  was  still  greater.  The  Eng- 
lish admiral  was  also  obliged  to  subdivide  his  force ;  and  Lord 
Henry  Seymour,  with  forty  of  the  best  Dutch  and  English 
ships,  was  employed  in  blockading  the  hostile  ports  in  Flanders, 
and  in  preventing  the  Duke  of  Parma  from  coming  out  of  Dun- 
kirk. 

The  orders  of  King  Philip  to  the  Duke  de  Medina  Sidonia 
were,  that  he  should,  on  entering  the  Channel,  keep  near  the 
French  coast,  and,  if  attacked  by  the  English  ships,  avoid  an 
action  and  steer  on  to  Calais  Roads,  where  the  Prince  of  Parma's 
squadron  was  to  join  him.  The  hope  of  surprising  and  destroy- 
ing the  English  fleet  in  Plymouth  led  the  Spanish  admiral  to 
deviate  from  these  orders  and  to  stand  across  to  the  English 


248  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

shore;  but,  on  finding  that  Lord  Howard  was  coming  out  to 
meet  him,  he  resumed  the  original  plan,  and  determined  to  bend 
his  way  steadily  toward  Calais  and  Dunkirk,  and  to  keep  merely 
on  the  defensive  against  such  squadrons  of  the  EngUsh  as  might 
come  up  with  him. 

It  was  on  Saturday,  the  20th  of  July,  that  Lord  Effingham 
came  in  sight  of  his  formidable  adversaries.  The  Armada  was 
drawn  up  in  form  of  a  crescent,  which  from  horn  to  horn  meas- 
ured some  seven  miles.  There  was  a  southwest  wind,  and  be- 
fore it  the  vast  vessels  sailed  slowly  on.  The  English  let  them 
pass  by,  and  then,  following  in  the  rear,  commenced  an  attack 
on  them.  A  running  fight  now  took  place,  in  which  some  of 
the  best  ships  of  the  Spaniards  were  captured ;  many  more  re- 
ceived heavy  damage,  while  the  English  vessels,  which  took 
care  not  to  close  with  their  huge  antagonists,  but  availed 
themselves  of  their  superior  celerity  in  tacking  and  manoeu- 
vring, suffered  little  comparative  loss.  Each  day  added  not  only 
to  the  spirit,  but  to  the  number  of  Effingham's  force.  Raleigh, 
Oxford,  Cumberland,  and  ShefBeld  joined  him  ;  and  "  the  gen- 
tlemen of  England  hired  ships  from  all  parts  at  their  own 
charge,  and  with  one  accord  came  flocking  thither  as  to  a  set 
field,  where  glory  was  to  be  attained,  and  faithful  service  per- 
formed unto  their  prince  and  their  country." 

Raleigh  justly  praises  the  English  admiral  for  his  skilful 
tactics.  Raleigh  says,*  "  Certainly,  he  that  will  happily  per- 
form a  fight  at  sea  must  be  skilful  in  making  choice  of  vessels 
to  fight  in :  he  must  believe  that  there  is  more  belonging  to  a 
good  man  of  war,  upon  the  waters,  than  great  daring ;  and 
must  know,  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  difference  between 
fighting  loose  or  at  large  and  grappling.  The  guns  of  a  slow 
ship  pierce  as  well  and  make  as  great  holes,  as  those  in  a 
swift.  To  clap  ships  together,  without  consideration,  belongs 
rather  to  a  madman  than  to  a  man  of  war ;  for  by  such  an 
ignorant  bravery  was  Peter  Strossie  lost  at  the  Azores,  when 
he  fought  against  the  Marquis  of  Santa  Cruza.  In  like  sort  had 
the  Lord  Charles  Howard,  admiral  of  England,  been  lost  in  the 
year  1588,  if  he  had  not  been  better  advised  than  a  great  many 
malignant  fools  were  that  found  fault  with  his  demeanor.  The 
Spaniards  had  an  army  aboard  them,  and  he  had  none ;  they 
had  more  ships  than  he  had,  and  of  higher  building  and  charg- 

*  "  Historic  of  the  World,"  p.  791. 


THE  DEFEAT   OF   THE   SPANISH  ARMADA  249 

ing;  so  that,  had  he  entangled  himself  with  those  great  and 
powerful  vessels,  he  had  greatly  endangered  this  kingdom  of 
England  ;  for  twenty  men  upon  the  defences  are  equal  to  a 
hundred  that  board  and  enter ;  whereas  then,  contrariwise,  the 
Spaniards  had  a  hundred,  for  twenty  of  ours,  to  defend  them- 
selves withal.  But  our  admiral  knew  his  advantage,  and  held 
it ;  which  had  he  not  done,  he  had  not  been  worthy  to  have 
held  his  head  up." 

The  Spanish  admiral  also  showed  great  judgment  and  firm- 
ness in  following  the  line  of  conduct  that  had  been  traced  out 
for  him  ;  and  on  the  27th  of  July,  he  brought  his  fleet  unbroken, 
though  sorely  distressed,  to  anchor  in  Calais  Roads.  But  the 
King  of  Spain  had  calculated  ill  the  number  and  the  activity  of 
the  English  and  Dutch  fleets ;  as  the  old  historian  expresses  it, 
"  It  seemeth  that  the  Duke  of  Parma  and  the  Spaniards 
grounded  upon  a  vain  and  presumptuous  expectation,  that  all 
the  ships  of  England  and  of  the  Low  Countreys  would  at  the 
first  sight  of  the  Spanish  and  Dunkirk  navie  have  betaken 
themselves  to  flight,  yeelding  them  sea-room,  and  endeavoring 
only  to  defend  themselues,  their  havens,  and  sea-coasts  from 
invasion.  Wherefore  their  intent  and  purpose  was,  that  the 
Duke  of  Parma,  in  his  small  and  flat-bottomed  ships,  should,  as 
it  were  under  the  shadow  and  wings  of  the  Spanish  fleet,  convey 
over  all  his  troupes,  armor,  and  war-like  provisions,  and  with 
their  forces  so  united,  should  invade  England ;  or  while  the 
English  fleet  were  busied  in  fight  against  the  Spanish,  should 
enter  upon  any  part  of  the  coast,  which  he  thought  to  be  most 
convenient.  Which  invasion  (as  the  captives  afterward  con- 
fessed) the  Duke  of  Parma  thought  first  to  have  attempted  by 
the  River  of  Thames ;  upon  the  bankes  whereof  having  at  the 
first  arrivall  landed  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  of  his  principal! 
souldiers,  he  supposed  that  he  might  easily  have  wonne  the 
citie  of  London ;  both  because  his  small  shippes  should  have 
followed  and  assisted  his  land  forces,  and  also  for  that  the  citie 
it-selfe  was  but  meanely  fortified  and  easie  to  ouercome,  by 
reason  of  the  citizens'  delicacie  and  discontinuance  from  the 
warres,  who,  with  continuall  and  constant  labor,  might  be 
vanquished,  if  they  yielded  not  at  the  first  assault."* 

But  the  English  and  Dutch  found  ships  and  mariners  enough 
to  keep  the  Armada  itself  in  check,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
*  Hakluyt's  "  Voyages,"  vol.  i.,  p.  601. 


250  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

block  up  Parma's  flotilla.  The  greater  part  of  Seymour's 
squadron  left  its  cruising-ground  off  Dunkirk  to  join  the  Eng- 
lish admiral  off  Calais  ;  but  the  Dutch  manned  about  five-and- 
thirty  sail  of  good  ships,  with  a  strong  force  of  soldiers  on 
board,  all  well  seasoned  to  the  sea-service,  and  with  these  they 
blockaded  the  Flemish  ports  that  were  in  Parma's  power.  Still 
it  was  resolved  by  the  Spanish  admiral  and  the  prince  to  en- 
deavor to  effect  a  junction,  which  the  English  seamen  were 
equally  resolute  to  prevent ;  and  bolder  measures  on  our  side 
now  became  necessary. 

The  Armada  lay  off  Calais,  with  its  largest  ships  ranged  out- 
side, "  like  strong  castles  fearing  no  assault,  the  lesser  placed 
in  the  middleward."  The  English  admiral  could  not  attack 
them  in  their  position  without  great  disadvantage,  but  on  the 
night  of  the  29th  he  sent  eight  fire-ships  among  them,  with 
almost  equal  effect  to  that  of  the  fire-ships  which  the  Greeks  so 
often  employed  against  the  Turkish  fleets  in  their  late  war  of 
independence.  The  Spaniards  cut  their  cables  and  put  to  sea 
in  confusion.  One  of  the  largest  galeasses  ran  foul  of  another 
vessel  and  was  stranded.  The  rest  of  the  fleet  was  scattered 
about  on  the  Flemish  coast,  and  when  the  morning  broke,  it 
was  with  difficulty  and  delay  that  they  obeyed  their  admiral's 
signal  to  range  themselves  round  him  near  Gravelines.  Now 
was  the  golden  opportunity  for  the  English  to  assail  them, 
and  prevent  them  from  ever  letting  loose  Parma's  flotilla 
against  England,  and  nobly  was  that  opportunity  used.  Drake 
and  Fenner  were  the  first  English  captains  who  attacked  the 
unwieldly  leviathans ;  then  came  Fenton,  Southwell,  Burton, 
Cross,  Raynor,  and  then  the  lord  admiral,  with  Lord  Thomas 
Howard  and  Lord  Sheffield.  The  Spaniards  only  thought  of 
forming  and  keeping  close  together,  and  were  driven  by  the 
English  past  Dunkirk,  and  far  away  from  the  Prince  of  Parma, 
who,  in  watching  their  defeat  from  the  coast,  must,  as  Drake 
expressed  it,  have  chafed  like  a  bear  robbed  of  her  whelps. 
This  was  indeed  the  last  and  the  decisive  battle  between  the 
two  fleets.  It  is,  perhaps,  best  described  in  the  very  words  of 
the  contemporary  writer,  as  we  may  read  them  in  Hakluyt.* 

"  Upon  the  29  of  July  in  the  morning,  the  Spanish  fleet  after 
the  forsayd  tumult,  having  arranged  themselues  againe  into 
order,  were,  within  sight  of  Greveling.  most  bravely  and  furi- 

♦Vol.  i.,  p.  602. 


THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE   SPANISH   ARMADA 


25^ 


ously  encountered  by  the  English,  where  they  once  again  got 
the  wind  of  the  Spaniards,  who  suffered  themsekies  to  be  de- 
prived of  the  commodity  of  the  place  in  Caleis  Road,  and  of  the 
advantage  of  the  wind  neer  unto  Dunkerk,  rather  than  they 
would  change  their  array  or  separate  their  forces  now  con- 
joyned  and  united  together,  standing  only  upon  their  defence. 

"  And  albeit  there  were  many  excellent  and  warlike  ships  in 
the  English  fleet,  yet  scarce  were  there  22  or  23  among  them 
all,  which  matched  90  of  the  Spanish  ships  in  the  bigness,  or 
could  conveniently  assault  them.  Wherefore  the  English 
shippes  using  their  prerogative  of  nimble  steerage,  whereby 
they  could  turn  and  wield  themselues  with  the  wind  which  way 
they  listed,  came  often  times  very  near  upon  the  Spaniards, 
and  charged  them  so  sore,  that  now  and  then  they  were  but  a 
pike's  length  asunder ;  and  so  continually  giving  them  one 
broadside  after  another,  they  discharged  all  their  shot,  both 
great  and  small,  upon  them,  spending  one  whole  day,  from 
morning  till  night,  in  that  violent  kind  of  conflict,  untill  such 
time  as  powder  and  bullets  failed  them.  In  regard  of  which 
want  they  thought  it  convenient  not  to  pursue  the  Spaniards 
any  longer,  because  they  had  many  great  vantages  of  the  Eng- 
lish, namely,  for  the  extraordinary  bigness  of  their  shippes, 
and  also  for  that  they  were  so  neerely  conjoyned,  and  kept  to- 
gether in  so  good  array,  that  they  could  by  no  meanes  be 
fought  withall  one  to  one.  The  English  thought,  therefore, 
that  they  had  right  well  acquitted  themselues  in  chasing  the 
vSpaniards  first  from  Caleis,  and  then  from  Dunkerk,  and  by 
that  means  to  have  hindered  them  from  joyning  with  the  Duke 
of  Parma  his  forces,  and  getting  the  wind  of  them,  to  have 
driven  them  from  their  own  coasts. 

"  The  Spaniards  that  day  sustained  great  loss  and  damage, 
having  many  of  their  shippes  shot  thorow  and  thorow,  and 
they  discharged  likewise  great  store  of  ordinance  against  the 
English,  who,  indeed,  sustained  some  hinderance,  but  not  com- 
parable to  the  Spaniard's  loss ;  for  they  lost  not  any  one  ship 
or  person  of  account ;  for  very  diligent  inquisition  being  made, 
the  Englishmen  all  that  time  wherein  the  Spanish  navy  sayled 
upon  their  seas,  are  not  found  to  haue  wanted  aboue  one  hun- 
dred of  their  people;  albeit  Sir  Francis  Drake's  ship  was 
pierced  with  shot  aboue  forty  times,  and  his  very  cabben  was 
twice  shot  thorow,  and  about  the  conclusion  of  the  fight,  the 


252 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


bed  of  a  certaine  gentleman  lying  weary  thereupon,  was  taken 
quite  from  under  him  with  the  force  of  a  bullet.  Likewise,  as 
the  Earle  of  Northumberland  and  Sir  Charles  Blunt  were  at 
dinner  upon  a  time,  the  bullet  of  a  demy-culvering  brake 
thorow  the  middest  of  their  cabben,  touched  their  feet,  and 
strooke  downe  two  of  the  standers-by,  with  many  such  acci- 
dents befalling  the  English  shippes,  which  it  were  tedious  to 
rehearse." 

It  reflects  little  credit  on  the  English  government  that  the 
English  fleet  was  so  deficiently  supplied  with  ammunition  as 
to  be  unable  to  complete  the  destruction  of  the  invaders.  But 
enough  was  done  to  insure  it.  Many  of  the  largest  Spanish 
ships  were  sunk  or  captured  in  the  action  of  this  day.  And  at 
length  the  Spanish  admiral,  despairing  of  success,  fled  north- 
ward with  a  southerly  wind,  in  the  hope  of  rounding  Scotland, 
and  so  returning  to  Spain  without  a  farther  encounter  with 
the  English  fleet.  Lord  Effingham  left  a  squadron  to  con- 
tinue the  blockade  of  the  Prince  of  Parma's  armament;  but 
that  wise  general  soon  withdrew  his  troops  to  more  promising 
fields  of  action.  Meanwhile  the  lord  admiral  himself,  and 
Drake,  chased  the  vincible  Armada,  as  it  was  now  termed,  for 
some  distance  northward  ;  and  then,  when  they  seemed  lo  bend 
away  from  the  Scotch  coast  towards  Norway,  it  was  thought 
best,  in  the  words  of  Drake,  "  to  leave  them  to  those  boisterous 
and  uncouth  Northern  seas." 

The  sufferings  and  losses  which  the  unhappy  Spaniards  sus- 
tained in  their  flight  round  Scotland  and  Ireland  are  well 
known.  Of  their  whole  Armada  only  fifty-three  shattered  ves- 
sels brought  back  their  beaten  and  wasted  crews  to  the  Spanish 
coast,  which  they  had  quitted  in  such  pageantry  and  pride. 

Some  passages  from  the  writings  of  those  who  took  part  in 
the  struggle  have  been  already  quoted,  and  the  most  spirited 
description  of  the  defeat  of  the  Armada  which  ever  was  penned 
may  perhaps  be  taken  from  the  letter  which  our  brave  Vice- 
Admiral  Drake  wrote  in  answer  to  some  mendacious  stories  by 
which  the  Spaniards  strove  to  hide  their  shame.  Thus  does  he 
describe  the  scenes  in  which  he  played  so  important  a  part :  * 

"  They  were  not  ashamed  to  publish,  in  sundry  languages 
in  print,  great  victories  in  words,  which  they  pretended  to 

*  See  Strype,  and  the  notes  to  the  Life  of  Drake  in  the  "'  Biographia 
Britannica." 


THE  DEFEAT   OF  THE   SPANISH   ARMADA  253 

have  obtained  against  this  reahn,  and  spread  the  same  in  a 
most  false  sort  over  all  parts  of  France,  Italy,  and  elsewhere ; 
when,  shortly  afterward,  it  was  happily  manifested  in  very 
deed  to  all  nations,  how  their  navy,  which  they  termed  invin- 
cible, consisting  of  one  hundred  and  forty  sail  of  ships,  not 
only  of  their  own  kingdom,  but  strengthened  with  the  greatest 
argosies,  Portugal  carracks,  Florentines,  and  large  hulks  of 
other  countries,  were  by  thirty  of  her  majesty's  own  ships  of 
war,  and  a  few  of  our  own  merchants,  by  the  wise,  valiant,  and 
advantageous  conduct  of  the  Lord  Charles  Howard,  high  ad- 
miral of  England,  beaten  and  shuffled  together  even  from  the 
Lizard  in  Cornwall,  first  to  Portland,  when  they  shamefully  left 
Don  Pedro  de  Valdez  with  his  mighty  ship ;  from  Portland  to 
Calais,  where  they  lost  Hugh  de  Moncado,  with  the  galleys  of 
which  he  was  captain  ;  and  from  Calais,  driven  with  squibs  from 
their  anchors,  were  chased  out  of  the  sight  of  England,  round 
about  Scotland  and  Ireland ;  where,  for  the  sympathy  of  their 
religion,  hoping  to  find  succor  and  assistance,  a  great  part  of 
them  were  crushed  against  the  rocks,  and  those  others  that 
landed,  being  very  many  in  number,  were,  notwithstanding, 
broken,  slain,  and  taken,  and  so  sent  from  village  to  village, 
coupled  in  halters  to  be  shipped  into  England,  where  her 
majesty,  of  her  princely  and  invincible  disposition,  disdaining 
to  put  them  to  death,  and  scorning  either  to  retain  or  to  enter- 
tain them,  they  were  all  sent  back  again  to  their  countries,  to 
w^itness  and  recount  the  worthy  achievement  of  their  invincible 
and  dreadful  navy.  Of  which  the  number  of  soldiers,  the  fear- 
ful burden  of  their  ships,  the  commanders'  names  of  every 
squadron,  with  all  others,  their  magazines  of  provision,  were 
put  in  print,  as  an  army  and  navy  irresistible  and  disdaining 
prevention  ;  with  all  which  their  great  and  terrible  ostentation, 
they  did  not  in  all  their  sailing  round  about  England  so  much 
as  sink  or  take  one  ship,  barque,  pinnace,  or  cock-boat  of  ours, 
or  even  burn  so  much  as  one  sheep-cote  on  this  land." 


254  DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  the  Spanish 

Armada,    a.d.    1588,    and    the    Battle    of    Blenheim, 

A.D,  1704. 

A.D.  1594.  Henry  IV.  of  France  conforms  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  and  ends  the  civil  wars  that  had  long  deso- 
lated France. 

1598.  Philip  II.  of  Spain  dies,  leaving  a  ruined  navy  and  an 
exhausted  kingdom. 

1603.  Death  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  The  Scotch  dynasty  of 
the  Stuarts  succeeds  to  the  throne  of  England. 

1619.  Commencement  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  in  Germany. 

1624 — 1642.  Cardinal  Richelieu  is  minister  of  France.  He 
breaks  the  power  of  the  nobility,  reduces  the  Huguenots  to 
complete  subjection,  and  by  aiding  the  Protestant  German 
princes  in  the  latter  part  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  he  humili- 
ates France's  ancient  rival,  Austria. 

1630.  Gustavus  Adolphus,  King  of  Sweden,  marches  into 
Germany  to  the  assistance  of  the  Protestants,  who  were  nearly 
crushed  by  the  Austrian  armies.  He  gains  several  great  vic- 
tories, and,  after  his  death,  Sweden,  under  his  statesmen  and 
generals,  continues  to  take  a  leading  part  in  the  war. 

1640.  Portugal  throws  off  the  Spanish  yoke ;  and  the  house 
of  Braganza  begins  to  reign. 

1642.  Commencement  of  the  civil  war  in  England  between 
Charles  I.  and  his  Parliament. 

1648.  The  Thirty  Years'  War  in  Germany  ended  by  the 
treaty  of  Westphalia. 

1653.  Oliver  Cromwell  Lord  Protector  of  England. 

1660.  Restoration  of  the  Stuarts  to  the  English  throne. 

1 661.  Louis  XIV.  takes  the  administration  of  aflfairs  in 
France  into  his  own  hands. 

1557 — 1668.  Louis  XIV.  makes  war  on  Spain,  and  conquers 
a  large  part  of  the  Spanish  Netherlands. 

1672.  Louis  makes  war  upon  Holland,  and  almost  over- 
powers it.  Charles  II.,  of  England,  is  his  pensioner,  and  Eng- 
land helps  the  French  in  their  attacks  upon  Holland  until  1674. 
Heroic  resistance  of  the  Dutch  under  the  Prince  of  Orange. 

1674.  Louis  conquers  Franche-Comte. 

1679.  Peace  of  Nimeguen. 


THE  DEFEAT   OF   THE   SPANISH   ARMADA  255 

1 68 1.  Louis  invades  and  occupies  Alsace. 

1682.  Accession  of  Peter  the  Great  to  the  throne  of  Russia. 
1685.  Louis  commences  a  merciless  persecution  of  his  Prot- 
estant subjects. 

1688.  The  glorious  Revolution  in  England.  Expulsion  of 
James  IL  William  of  Orange  is  made  King  of  England. 
James  takes  refuge  at  the  French  court,  and  Louis  undertakes 
to  restore  him.    General  war  in  the  west  of  Europe. 

1697.  Treaty  of  Ryswick.  Charles  XIL  becomes  King  of 
Sweden. 

1700.  Charles  IL,  of  Spain,  dies,  having  bequeathed  his 
dominions  to  Philip  of  Anjou,  Louis  XIV.'s  grandson.  De- 
feat of  the  Russians  at  Narva  by  Charles  XIL 

1701.  William  III.  forms  a  "  Grand  Alliance"  of  Austria, 
the  Empire,  the  United  Provinces,  England,  and  other  powers, 
against  France. 

1702.  King  William  dies;  but  his  successor,  Queen  Anne, 
adheres  to  the  Grand  Alliance,  and  war  is  proclaimed  against 
France. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE   BATTLE   OF   BLENHEIM,   A.D.    1704. 

"  The  decisive  blow  struck  at  Blenheim  resounded  through  every  part 
of  Europe :  it  at  once  destroyed  the  vast  fabric  of  power  which  it  had 
taken  Louis  XIV.,  aided  by  the  talents  of  Turenne  and  the  genius  of 
Vauban,  so  long  to  construct." — Alison. 

THOUGH  more  slowly  moulded  and  less  imposingly  vast 
than  the  empire  of  Napoleon,  the  power  which  Louis 
XIV.  had  acquired  and  was  acquiring  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  eighteenth  century  was  almost  equally  men- 
acing to  the  general  liberties  of  Europe.  If  tested  by  the 
amount  of  permanent  aggrandizement  which  each  procured  for 
France,  the  ambition  of  the  royal  Bourbon  was  more  success- 
ful than  were  the  enterprises  of  the  imperial  Corsican.  All  the 
provinces  that  Bonaparte  conquered  were  rent  again  from 
France  within  twenty  years  from  the  date  when  the  very  earliest 
of  them  was  acquired.  France  is  not  stronger  by  a  single  city 
or  a  single  acre  for  all  the  devastating  wars  of  the  Consulate  and 
the  Empire.  But  she  still  possesses  Franche-Comte,  Alsace, 
and  part  of  Flanders.  She  has  still  the  extended  boundaries 
which  Louis  XIV.  gave  her ;  and  the  royal  Spanish  marriages 
a  few  years  ago  proved  clearly  how  enduring  has  been  the  polit- 
ical influence  which  the  arts  and  arms  of  France's  "  Grand 
Monarque  "  obtained  for  her  southward  of  the  Pyrenees. 

When  Louis  XIV.  took  the  reins  of  government  into  his  own 
hands,  after  the  death  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  there  was  a  union 
of  ability  with  opportunity  such  as  France  had  not  seen  since 
the  days  of  Charlemagne.  Moreover,  Louis'  career  was  no 
brief  one.  For  upwards  of  forty  years,  for  a  period  nearly 
equal  to  the  duration  of  Charlemagne's  reign,  Louis  steadily 
followed  an  aggressive  and  a  generally  successful  policy.  He 
passed  a  long  youth  and  manhood  of  triumph  before  the  mil- 
itary genius  of  Marlborough  made  him  acquainted  with 
humiliation  and  defeat.     The  great  Bourbon  lived  too  long. 

256 


THE   BATTLE   OF   BLENHEIM 


257 


He  should  not  have  outstayed  our  two  English  kings,  one  his 
dependent,  James  II.,  the  other  his  antagonist,  William  III. 
Had  he  died  when  they  died,  his  reign  would  be  cited  as  un- 
equalled in  the  French  annals  for  its  prosperity.  But  he  lived 
on  to  see  his  armies  beaten,  his  cities  captured  and  his  kingdom 
wasted  year  after  year  by  disastrous  war.  It  is  as  if  Charle- 
magne had  survived  to  be  defeated  by  the  Northmen,  and  to 
witness  the  misery  and  shame  that  actually  fell  to  the  lot  of  his 
descendants. 

Still,  Louis  XIV.  had  forty  years  of  success ;  and  from  the 
permanence  of  their  fruits,  we  may  judge  what  the  results 
would  have  been  if  the  last  fifteen  years  of  his  reign  had  been 
equally  fortunate.  Had  it  not  been  for  Blenheim,  all  Europe 
might  at  this  day  sufTer  under  the  effect  of  French  conquests 
resembling  those  of  Alexander  in  extent  and  those  of  the 
Romans  in  durability. 

When  Louis  XIV.  began  to  govern,  he  found  all  the  ma- 
terials for  a  strong  government  ready  to  his  hand.  Richelieu 
had  completely  tamed  the  turbulent  spirit  of  the  French  nobil- 
ity, and  had  subverted  the  "  imperium  in  imperio  "  of  the 
Huguenots.  The  faction  of  the  Frondeurs  in  Mazarin's  time 
had  had  the  effect  of  making  the  Parisian  Parliament  utterly 
hateful  and  contemptible  in  the  eyes  of  the  nation.  The  As- 
semblies of  the  States-General  were  obsolete.  The  royal  au- 
thority alone  remained.  The  king  was  the  state.  Louis  knew 
his  position.  He  fearlessly  avowed  it,  and  he  fearlessly  acted 
up  to  it.* 

Not  only  was  his  government  a  strong  one,  but  the  coun- 
try which  he  governed  was  strong — strong  in  its  geographical 
situation,  in  the  compactness  of  its  territory,  in  the  number 
and  martial  spirit  of  its  inhabitants,  and  in  their  complete  and 
undivided  nationality.  Louis  had  neither  a  Hungary  nor  an 
Ireland  in  his  dominions.  The  civil  war  in  the  Cevennes  was 
caused  solely  by  his  own  persecuting  intolerance ;  and  that 
did  not  occur  till  late  in  his  reign,  when  old  age  had  made  his 
bigotry  more  gloomy,  and  had  given  fanaticism  the  mastery 
over  prudence. 

Like  Napoleon  in  after  times,  Louis  XIV.  saw  clearly  that 

*  "  Quand  Louis  XIV.. dit,  '  I'Etat,  c'est  moi:'  il  n'y  ent  dans  cette 
parole  ni  enflure,  ni  vantere,  mais  la  simple  enonciation  d'un  fait." — 
MiCHELET,  Histoire  Moderne,  vol.  ii.,  p.  106, 

17 


258  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

the  great  wants  of  France  were  "  ships,  colonies,  and  com- 
merce." But  Louis  did  more  than  see  these  wants:  by  the 
aid  of  his  great  minister,  Colbert,  he  supplied  them.  One  of 
the  surest  proofs  of  the  genius  of  Louis  was  his  skill  in  finding 
out  genius  in  others  and  his  promptness  in  calling  it  into  ac- 
tion. Under  him,  Louvois  organized,  Turenne,  Conde,  Villars, 
and  Berwick  led  the  armies  of  France,  and  Vauban  fortified  her 
frontiers.  Throughout  his  reign,  French  diplomacy  was 
marked  by  skilfulness  and  activity,  and  also  by  comprehen- 
sive farsightedness,  such  as  the  representatives  of  no  other 
nation  possessed.  Guizot's  testimony  to  the  vigor  that  was 
displayed  through  every  branch  of  Louis  XIV.'s  government, 
and  to  the  extent  to  which  France  at  present  is  indebted  to  him, 
is  remarkable.  He  says  that,  "  taking  the  public  services  of 
every  kind,  the  finances,  the  departments  of  roads  and  public 
works,  the  military  administration,  and  all  the  establishments 
which  belong  to  every  branch  of  administration,  there  is  not 
one  that  will  not  be  found  to  have  had  its  origin,  its  develop- 
ment, or  its  greatest  perfection  under  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV."* 
And  he  points  out  to  us  that  "  the  government  of  Louis  XIV. 
was  the  first  that  presented  itself  to  the  eyes  of  Europe  as  a 
power  acting  upon  sure  grounds,  which  had  not  to  dispute  its 
existence  with  inward  enemies,  but  was  at  ease  as  to  its  terri- 
tory and  its  people,  and  solely  occupied  with  the  task  of  admin- 
istering government,  properly  so  called.  All  the  European 
governments  had  been  previously  thrown  into  incessant  wars, 
which  deprived  them  of  all  security  as  well  as  of  all  leisure,  or 
so  pestered  by  internal  parties  or  antagonists  that  their  time 
was  passed  in  fighting  for  existence.  The  government  of  Louis 
XIV.  was  the  first  to  appear  as  a  busy,  thriving  administration 
of  affairs,  as  a  power  at  once  definitive  and  progressive,  which 
was  not  afraid  to  innovate,  because  it  could  reckon  securely  on 
the  future.  There  have  been,  in  fact,  very  few  governments 
equally  innovating.  Compare  it  with  a  government  of  the  same 
nature,  the  unmixed  monarchy  of  Philip  II.  in  Spain ;  it  was 
more  absolute  than  that  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  yet  it  was  far  less 
regular  and  tranquil.  How  did  Philip  II.  succeed  in  estab- 
lishing absolute  power  in  Spain?  By  stifling  all  activity  in  the 
country,  opposing  himself  to  every  species  of  amelioration,  and 
rendering  the  state  of  Spain  completely  stagnant.  The  gov- 
*  "  History  of  European  Civilization,"  Lecture  13. 


THE   BATTLE   OF   BLENHEIM 


259 


ernment  of  Louis  XIV.,  on  the  contrary,  exhibited  alacrity  for 
all  sorts  of  innovations,  and  showed  itself  favorable  to  the 
progress  of  letters,  arts,  wealth — in  short,  of  civilization.  This 
was  the  veritable  cause  of  its  preponderance  in  Europe,  which 
arose  to  such  a  pitch,  that  it  became  the  type  of  a  government, 
not  only  to  sovereigns,  but  also  to  nations,  during  the  seven- 
teenth century." 

While  France  was  thus  strong  and  united  in  herself,  and 
ruled  by  a  martial,  an  ambitious,  and  (with  all  his  faults)  an 
enlightened  and  high-spirited  sovereign,  what  European 
power  was  there  fit  to  cope  with  her  or  keep  her  in  check  ? 

"  As  to  Germany,  the  ambitious  projects  of  the  German 
branch  of  Austria  had  been  entirely  defeated,  the  peace  of  the 
empire  had  been  restored,  and  almost  a  new  constitution 
formed,  or  an  old  revived,  by  the  treaties  of  Westphaha; 
nay,  the  imperial  eagle  was  not  only  fallen,  but  her  wings 
tvere  clipped."* 

As  to  Spain,  the  Spanish  branch  of  the  Austrian  house  had 
sunk  equally  low.  Philip  II.  left  his  successors  a  ruined  mon- 
archy. He  left  them  something  worse ;  he  left  them  his  ex- 
ample and  his  principles  of  government,  founded  in  ambition, 
in  pride,  in  ignorance,  in  bigotry,  and  all  the  pedantry  of  state,  f 

It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  wondered  at,  that  France,  in  the 
first  war  of  Louis  XIV.,  despised  the  opposition  of  both 
branches  of  the  once  predominant  house  of  Austria.  Indeed, 
in  Germany,  the  French  king  acquired  allies  among  the  princes 
of  the  empire  against  the  emperor  himself.  He  had  a  still 
stronger  support  in  Avistria's  misgovernment  of  her  own  sub- 
jects. The  words  of  Bolingbroke  on  this  are  remarkable,  and 
some  of  them  sound  as  if  written  within  the  last  three  years. 
Bolingbroke  says,  "  It  was  not  merely  the  want  of  cordial  co- 

*  Bolingbroke,  vol.  ii.,  p.  378.  Lord  Bolingbroke's  "  Letters  on  the 
Use  of  History"  and  his  "  Sketch  of  the  History  and  State  of  Europe  " 
abound  with  remarks  on  Louis  XIV.  and  his  contemporaries,  of  which 
the  substance  is  as  sound  as  the  style  is  beautiful.  Unfortunately,  like 
all  his  other  works,  they  contain  also  a  large  proportion  of  sophistry  and 
misrepresentation.  The  best  test  to  use  before  we  adopt  any  opinion  or 
assertion  of  Bolingbroke's,  is  to  consider  whether  in  writing  it  he  was 
thinking  either  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole  or  of  Revealed  Religion.  When 
either  of  these  objects  of  his  hatred  was  before  his  mind,  he  scrupled  at 
no  artifice  or  exaggeration  that  might  serve  the  purpose  of  his  malignity. 
On  most  other  occasions  he  may  be  followed  with  advantage,  as  he  always 
may  be  read  with  pleasure. 

t  Ibid.,  p.  378. 


£6o  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

operation  among  the  princes  of  the  empire  that  disabled  the 
emperor  from  acting  with  vigor  in  the  cause  of  his  family  then, 
nor  that  has  rendered  the  house  of  Austria  a  dead  weight  upon 
all  her  allies  ever  since.  Bigotry,  and  its  inseparable  compan- 
ion, cruelty,  as  well  as  the  tyranny  and  avarice  of  the  court  of 
Vienna,  created  in  those  days,  and  has  maintained  in  ours,  al- 
most a  perpetual  diversion  of  the  imperial  arms  from  all  eiTect- 
ual  opposition  to  France.  /  mean  to  speak  of  the  troubles  in 
Hungary.  Whatever  they  became  in  their  progress,  they  were 
caused  originally  by  the  usurpations  and  persecutions  of  the  em- 
peror; and  when  the  Hungarians  were  called  rebels  first,  they 
were  called  so  for  no  other  reason  than  this,  that  they  would 
not  be  slaves.  The  dominion  of  the  emperor  being  less  sup- 
portable than  that  of  the  Turks,  this  unhappy  people  opened 
a  door  to  the  latter  to  infest  the  empire,  instead  of  making  their 
country,  what  it  had  been  before,  a  barrier  against  the  Ottoman 
power.  France  became  a  sure  though  secret  ally  of  the  Turks 
as  well  as  the  Hungarians,  and  has  found  her  account  in  it  by 
keeping  the  emperor  in  perpetual  alarms  on  that  side,  while  she 
has  ravaged  the  empire  and  the  Low  Countries  on  the  other."* 

If,  after  having  seen  the  imbecility  of  Germany  and  Spain 
against  the  France  of  Louis  XIV.,  we  turn  to  the  two  only 
remaining  European  powers  of  any  importance  at  that  time, 
to  England  and  to  Holland,  we  find  the  position  of  our  own 
country  as  to  European  politics,  from  1660  to  1688,  most  pain- 
ful to  contemplate ;  nor  is  our  external  history  during  the  last 
twelve  years  of  the  eighteenth  century  by  any  means  satis- 
factory to  national  pride,  though  it  is  infinitely  less  shameful 
than  that  of  the  preceding  twenty-eight  years.  From  1660 
to  1668,  "  England,  by  the  return  of  the  Stuarts,  was  reduced 
to  a  nullity."  The  words  are  ]\Iichelet's,f  and,  though  severe, 
they  are  just.  They  are,  in  fact,  not  severe  enough  ;  for  when 
England,  under  her  restored  dynasty  of  the  Stuarts,  did  take 
any  part  in  European  politics,  her  conduct,  or,  rather,  her 
king's  conduct,  was  almost  invariably  wicked  and  dishonorable. 

Bolingbroke  rightly  says  that,  previous  to  the  revolution 
of  1688,  during  the  whole  progress  that  Louis  XIV.  made 
towards  acquiring  such  exorbitant  power  as  gave  him  well- 
grounded  hopes  of  acquiring  at  last  to  his  family  the  Spanish 

*  Bolingbroke,  vol.  ij.,  p.  397. 

T  "  Hii^toire   Moderne,"   vol.    ii.,   p.    106. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM  261 

monarchy,  England  had  been  either  an  idle  spectator  of  what 
passed  on  the  Continent,  or  a  faint  and  uncertain  ally  against 
France,  or  a  warm  and  sure  ally  on  her  side,  or  a  partial  medi- 
ator between  her  and  the  powers  confederated  together  in  their 
common  defence.  But  though  the  court  of  England  submitted 
to  abet  the  usurpations  of  France,  and  the  King  of  England 
stooped  to  be  her  pensioner,  the  crime  was  not  national.  On 
the  contrary,  the  nation  cried  out  loudly  against  it,  even  while 
it  was  committing.* 

Holland  alone,  of  all  the  European  powers,  opposed  from  the 
very  beginning  a  steady  and  uniform  resistance  to  the  ambi- 
tion and  power  of  the  French  king.  It  was  against  Holland 
that  the  fiercest  attacks  of  P'rance  were  made,  and,  though 
often  apparently  on  the  eve  of  complete  success,  they  were 
always  ultimately  baffled  by  the  stubborn  bravery  of  the  Dutch, 
and  the  heroism  of  their  great  leader,  William  of  Orange. 
When  he  became  King  of  England,  the  power  of  this  country 
was  thrown  decidedly  into  the  scale  against  France ;  but 
though  the  contest  was  thus  rendered  less  unequal,  though 
William  acted  throughout  "  with  invincible  firmness,  like  a 
patriot  and  a  hero,"f  France  had  the  general  superiority  in 
every  war  and  in  every  treaty ;  and  the  commencement  of  the 
eighteenth  century  found  the  last  league  against  her  dissolved, 
all  the  forces  of  the  confederates  against  her  dispersed  and 
many  disbanded;  while  France  continued  armed,  with  her 
veteran  forces  by  sea  and  land  increased,  and  held  in  readiness 
to  act  on  all  sides,  whenever  the  opportunity  should  arise  for 
seizing  on  the  great  prizes  which,  from  the  very  beginning  of 
his  reign,  had  never  been  lost  sight  of  by  her  king. 

This  is  not  the  place  for  any  narrative  of  the  first  essay  which 
Louis  XIV.  made  of  his  power  in  the  war  of  1667 ;  of  his  rapid 
conquest  of  Flanders  and  Franche-Comte ;  of  the  treaty  of 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  which  "  was  nothing  more  than  a  composition 
between  the  bully  and  the  bullied  "  ;|  of  his  attack  on  Holland 
in  1672;  of  the  districts  and  barrier  towns  of  the  Spanish 
Netherlands,  which  were  secured  to  him  by  the  treaty  of  Nime- 
guen  in  1678;  of  how,  after  this  treaty,  he  "  continued  to  vex 
both  Spain  and  the  empire,  and  to  extend  his  conquests  in  the 
Low  Countries  and  on  the  Rhine,  both  by  the  pen  and  the 
sword ;   how  he  took  Luxembourg  by  force,  stole  Strasburg, 

*  Bolingbrokcj  vol.  ii.,  p.  418.         t  Ibid.,  p.  404.         t  Ibid.,  p.  399. 


j62  decisive  battles 

and  bought  Casal  "  ;  of  how  the  league  of  Augsburg  was  formed 
against  him  in  1686,  and  the  election  of  William  of  Orange  to 
the  English  throne  in  1688  gave  a  new  spirit  to  the  opposition 
which  France  encountered;  of  the  long  and  checkered  war 
that  followed,  in  which  the  French  armies  were  generally  vic- 
torious on  the  Continent,  though  his  fleet  was  beaten  at  La 
Hogue,  and  his  dependent,  James  II.,  was  defeated  at  the 
Boyne ;  or  of  the  treaty  of  Ryswick,  which  left  France  in  pos- 
session of  Roussillon,  Artois,  and  Strasburg,  which  gave  Eu- 
rope no  security  against  her  claims  on  the  Spanish  succession, 
and  which  Louis  regarded  as  a  mere  truce,  to  gain  breathing- 
time  before  a  more  decisive  struggle.  It  must  be  borne  in 
mind  that  the  ambition  of  Louis  in  these  wars  was  two-fold. 
It  had  its  immediate  and  its  ulterior  objects.  Its  immediate 
object  was  to  conquer  and  annex  to  France  the  neighboring 
provinces  and  towns  that  were  most  convenient  for  the  in- 
crease of  her  strength ;  but  the  ulterior  object  of  Louis,  from 
the  time  of  his  marriage  to  the  Spanish  Infanta  in  1659,  was 
to  acquire  for  the  house  of  Bourbon  the  whole  empire  of  Spain. 
A  formal  renunciation  of  all  right  to  the  Spanish  succession 
had  been  made  at  the  time  of  the  marriage ;  but  such  renuncia- 
tions were  never  of  any  practical  efifect,  and  many  casuists  and 
jurists  of  the  age  even  held  them  to  be  intrinsically  void.  As 
the  time  passed  on,  and  the  prospect  of  Charles  II.  of  Spain 
dying  without  lineal  heirs  became  more  and  more  certain,  so 
did  the  claims  of  the  house  of  Bourbon  to  the  Spanish  crown 
after  his  death  become  matters  of  urgent  interest  to  French 
ambition  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the  other  powers  of  Europe 
on  the  other.  At  length  the  unhappy  King  of  Spain  died.  By 
his  will  he  appointed  Philip,  Duke  of  Anjou,  one  of  Louis 
XIV.'s  grandsons,  to  succeed  him  on  the  throne  of  Spain,  and 
strictly  forbade  any  partition  of  his  dominions.  Louis  well 
knew  that  a  general  European  war  would  follow  if  he  accepted 
for  his  house  the  crown  thus  bequeathed.  But  he  had  been 
preparing  for  this  crisis  throughout  his  reign.  He  sent  his 
grandson  into  Spain  as  King  Philip  V.  of  that  country,  address- 
ing to  him,  on  his  departure,  the  memorable  words,  "  There 
are  no  longer  any  Pyrenees." 

The  empire,  which  now  received  the  grandson  of  Louis  as 
its  king,  comprised,  besides  Spain  itself,  the  strongest  part  of 
the  Netherlands,  Sardinia,  Sicily,  Naples,  the  principality  of 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM  263 

Milan,  and  other  possessions  in  Italy,  the  Philippines  and 
Manilla  Islands  in  Asia,  and,  in  the  New  World,  besides  Cali- 
fornia and  Florida,  the  greatest  part  of  Central  and  of  South- 
ern America.  Philip  was  well  received  in  Madrid,  where  he 
was  crowned  as  King  Philip  V.  in  the  beginning  of  1701.  The 
distant  portions  of  his  empire  sent  in  their  adhesion ;  and  the 
house  of  Bourbon,  either  by  its  French  or  Spanish  troops,  now 
had  occupation  both  of  the  kingdom  of  Francis  I.  and  of  the 
fairest  and  amplest  portions  of  the  empire  of  the  great  rival  of 
Francis,  Charles  V. 

Loud  was  the  wrath  of  Austria,  whose  princes  were  the  rival 
claimants  of  the  Bourbons  for  the  empire  of  Spain.  The  in- 
dignation of  our  William  III.,  though  not  equally  loud,  was 
far  more  deep  and  energetic.  By  his  exertions,  a  league  against 
the  house  of  Bourbon  was  formed  between  England,  Holland, 
and  the  Austrian  emperor,  which  was  subsequently  joined  by 
the  Kings  of  Portugal  and  Prussia,  by  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  and 
by  Denmark.  Indeed,  the  alarm  throughout  Europe  was 
now  general  and  urgent.  It  was  evident  that  Louis  aimed  at 
consolidating  France  and  the  Spanish  dominions  into  one  pre- 
ponderating empire.  At  the  moment  when  Philip  was  de- 
parting to  take  possession  of  Spain,  Louis  had  issued  letters- 
patent  in  his  favor  to  the  effect  of  preserving  his  rights  to  the 
throne  of  France.  And  Louis  had  himself  obtained  possession 
of  the  important  frontier  of  the  Spanish  Netherlands  with  its 
numerous  fortified  cities,  which  were  given  up  to  his  troops 
under  pretence  of  securing  them  for  the  young  King  of  Spain. 
Whether  the  formal  union  of  the  two  crowns  was  likely  to  take 
place  speedily  or  not,  it  was  evident  that  the  resources  of  the 
whole  Spanish  monarchy  were  now  virtually  at  the  French 
king's  disposal. 

The  peril  that  seemed  to  menace  the  empire,  England,  Hol- 
land, and  the  other  independent  powers,  is  well  summed  up  by 
'Alison — "  Spain  had  threatened  the  liberties  of  Europe  in  the 
end  of  the  sixteenth  century,  France  had  all  but  overthrown 
them  in  the  close  of  the  seventeenth.  What  hope  was  there  of 
their  being  able  to  make  head  against  them  both,  united  under 
such  a  monarch  as  Louis  XIV.  ?  "* 

Our  knowledge  of  the  decayed  state  into  which  the  Span- 
ish power  had  fallen  ought  not  to  make  us  regard  their  alarms 
*  "  Military  History  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,"  p.  32. 


264  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

as  chimerical.  Spain  possessed  enormous  resources,  and  her 
strength  was  capable  of  being  regenerated  by  a  vigorous  ruler. 
We  should  remember  what  Alberoni  effected  even  after  the 
close  of  the  War  of  Succession.  By  what  that  minister  did  in  a 
few  years,  we  may  judge  what  Louis  XIV.  would  have  done 
in  restoring  the  maritime  and  military  power  of  that  great 
country,  which  nature  had  so  largely  gifted,  and  which  man's 
misgovernment  had  so  debased. 

The  death  of  King  William,  on  the  8th  of  March,  1702,  at 
first  seemed  likely  to  paralyze  the  league  against  France ;  "  for 
notwithstanding  the  ill  success  with  which  he  made  war  gen- 
erally, he  was  looked  upon  as  the  sole  centre  of  union  that 
could  keep  together  the  great  confederacy  then  forming ;  and 
how  much  the  French  feared  from  his  life  had  appeared  a  few 
years  before,  in  the  extravagant  and  indecent  joy  they  ex- 
pressed on  a  false  report  of  his  death.  A  short  time  showed 
how  vain  the  fears  of  some  and  the  hopes  of  others  were."* 
Queen  Anne,  within  three  days  after  her  accession,  went  down 
to  the  House  of  Lords,  and  there  declared  her  resolution  to 
support  the  measures  planned  by  her  predecessor,  who  had 
been  "  the  great  support,  not  only  of  these  kingdoms,  but  of 
all  Europe."  Anne  was  married  to  Prince  George  of  Denmark, 
and  by  her  accession  to  the  English  throne  the  confederacy 
against  Louis  obtained  the  aid  of  the  troops  of  Denmark ;  but 
Anne's  strong  attachment  to  one  of  her  female  friends  led  to 
far  more  important  advantages  to  the  anti-Gallican  confederacy 
than  the  acquisition  of  many  armies,  for  it  gave  them  Marl- 
borough as  their  captain-general. 

There  are  few  successful  commanders  on  whom  Fame  has 
shone  so  unwillingly  as  upon  John  Churchill,  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough, prince  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  victor  of  Blen- 
heim, Ramillies,  Oudenarde,  and  Malplaquet,  captor  of  Liege, 
Bonn,  Limburg,  Landau,  Ghent,  Bruges,  Antwerp,  Oudenarde, 
Ostend,  Menin,  Dendermonde,  Ath,  Lille,  Tournay,  Mons, 
Douay,  Aire,  Bethune,  and  Bouchain ;  who  never  fought  a 
battle  that  he  did  not  win,  and  never  besieged  a  place  that  he 
did  not  take.  Marlborough's  own  character  is  the  cause  of  this. 
Military  glory  may,  and  too  often  does,  dazzle  both  contem- 
poraries and  posterity,  until  the  crimes  as  well  as  the  vices  of 
heroes  are  forgotten.  But  even  a  few  stains  of  personal  mean- 
*  Bolingbroke,  vol.  ii.,  p.  445. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM  265 

ness  will  dim  a  soldiers  reputation  irreparably;  and  Marl- 
borough's faults  were  of  a  peculiarly  base  and  mean  order. 
Our  feelings  towards  historical  personages  are  in  this  respect 
like  our  feelings  towards  private  acquaintances.  There  are  ac- 
tions of  that  shabby  nature,  that  however  much  they  may  be 
outweighed  by  a  man's  good  deeds  on  a  general  estimate  of 
his  character,  we  never  can  feel  any  cordial  liking  for  the  per- 
son who  has  once  been  guilty  of  them.  Thus,  with  respect  to 
the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  it  goes  against  our  feelings  to  ad- 
mire the  man  who  owed  his  first  advancement  in  life  to  the 
court  favor  which  he  and  his  family  acquired  through  his  sister 
becoming  one  of  the  mistresses  of  the  Duke  of  York.  It  is  re- 
pulsive to  know  that  Marlborough  laid  the  foundation  of  his 
wealth  by  being  the  paid  lover  of  one  of  the  fair  and  frail 
favorites  of  Charles  IL*  His  treachery,  and  his  ingratitude  to 
his  patron  and  benefactor,  James  II. ,  stand  out  in  dark  relief 
even  in  that  age  of  thankless  perfidy.  He  was  almost  equally 
disloyal  to  his  new  master,  King  William ;  and  a  more  un- 
English  act  cannot  be  recorded  than  Godolphin's  and  Marl- 
borough's betrayal  to  the  French  court  in  1694  of  the  expedi- 
tion then  designed  against  Brest,  a  piece  of  treachery  which 
caused  some  hundreds  of  English  soldiers  and  sailors  to  be 
helplessly  slaughtered  on  the  beach  in  Cameret  Bay. 

It  is,  however,  only  in  his  military  career  that  we  have  now 
to  consider  him;  and  there  are  very  few  generals,  of  either 
ancient  or  modern  times,  whose  campaigns  will  bear  a  compari- 
son with  those  of  Marlborough,  either  for  the  masterly  skill 
with  which  they  were  planned,  or  for  the  bold  yet  prudent 
energy  with  which  each  plan  was  carried  into  execution.  Marl- 
borough had  served  while  young  under  Turenne,  and  had  ob- 
tained the  marked  praise  of  that  great  tactician.  It  would  be 
difificult,  indeed,  to  name  a  single  quality  which  a  general  ought 
to  have,  and  with  which  Marlborough  was  not  eminently  gifted. 
What  principally  attracted  the  notice  of  contemporaries  was 
the  imperturbable  evenness  of  his  spirit.  Voltaire f  says  of 
him: 

*  Marlborough  might  plead  the  example  of  Sylla  in  this.  Compare  the 
anecdote  in  Plutarch  about  Sylla  when  young  and  Nfcopolis,  Koivris  fiiv, 
(v-wSpov  5J  yvvaiKhs,  and  the  anecdote  about  Marlborough  and  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  told  by  Lord  Chesterfield,  and  cited  in  Macaulay's  "  His- 
tory," vol.  i.,  p.  461. 

7  "  Siecle  de  Louis  Quatorze." 


266  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

"  He  had,  to  a  degree  above  all  other  generals  of  his  tlme^ 
that  calm  courage  in  the  midst  of  tumult,  that  serenity  of  soul 
in  danger,  which  the  English  call  a  cool  head  [que  les  Anglais 
appellent  cold  head,  tete  froidc] ,  and  it  was,  perhaps,  this  quality, 
the  greatest  gift  of  nature  for  command,  which  formerly  gave 
the  English  so  many  advantages  over  the  French  in  the  plains 
of  Cressy,  Poictiers,  and  Agincourt." 

King  William's  knowledge  of  Marlborough's  high  abilities, 
though  he  knew  his  faithlessness  equally  well,  is  said  to  have 
caused  that  sovereign  in  his  last  illness  to  recommend  Marl- 
borough to  his  successor  as  the  fittest  person  to  command  her 
armies ;  but  Marlborough's  favor  with  the  new  queen,  by 
means  of  his  wife,  was  so  high,  that  he  was  certain  of  obtain- 
ing the  highest  employment ;  and  the  war  against  Louis  opened 
to  him  a  glorious  theatre  for  the  display  of  those  military  talents, 
which  he  had  previously  only  had  an  opportunity  of  exercising 
in  a  subordinate  character,  and  on  far  less  conspicuous  scenes. 

He  was  not  only  made  captain-general  of  the  English  forces 
at  home  and  abroad,  but  such  was  the  authority  of  England  in 
the  council  of  the  Grand  Alliance,  and  Marlborough  was  so 
skilled  in  winning  golden  opinions  from  all  whom  he  met  with, 
that,  on  his  reaching  the  Hague,  he  was  received  with  trans- 
ports of  joy  by  the  Dutch,  and  it  was  agreed  by  the  heads  of 
that  republic,  and  the  minister  of  the  emperor,  that  Marl- 
borough should  have  the  chief  command  of  all  the  allied  armies. 

It  must,  indeed,  in  justice  to  Marlborough,  be  borne  in  mind 
that  mere  military  skill  was  by  no  means  all  that  was  required 
of  him  in  this  arduous  and  invidious  station.  Had  it  not  been 
for  his  unrivalled  patience  and  sweetness  of  temper,  and  his 
marvellous  ability  in  discerning  the  character  of  those  whom 
he  had  to  act  with,  his  intuitive  perception  of  those  who  were 
to  be  thoroughly  trusted,  and  of  those  who  were  to  be  amused 
with  the  mere  semblance  of  respect  and  confidence ;  had  not 
Marlborough  possessed  and  employed,  while  at  the  head  of  the 
allied  armies,  all  the  qualifications  of  a  polished  courtier  and 
a  great  statesman,  he  never  would  have  led  the  allied  armies  to 
the  Danube.  The  confederacy  would  not  have  held  together 
for  a  single  year.  His  great  political  adversary,  Bolingbroke, 
does  him  ample  justice  here.  Bolingbroke,  after  referring  to 
the  loss  which  King  William's  death  seemed  to  inflict  on  the 
cause  of  the  allies,  observes  that,  "  By  his  death  the  Duke  of 


THE    BATTLE    OF  BLENHEIM  267 

Marlborough  was  raised  to  the  head  of  the  army,  and,  indeed, 
of  the  confederacy ;  where  he,  a  new,  a  private  man,  a  subject, 
acquired  by  merit  and  by  management  a  more  deciding  in- 
fluence than  high  birth,  confirmed  authority,  and  even  the 
crown  of  Great  Britain  had  given  to  King  Wilham.  Not  only 
all  the  parts  of  that  vast  machine,  the  Grand  Alliance,  were 
kept  more  compact  and  entire,  but  a  more  rapid  and  vigorous 
motion  was  given  to  the  whole;  and,  instead  of  languishing 
and  disastrous  campaigns,  we  saw  every  scene  of  the  war  full  of 
action.  All  those  wherein  he  appeared,  and  many  of  those 
wherein  he  was  not  then  an  actor,  but  abettor,  however,  of  their 
action,  were  crowned  with  the  most  triumphant  success. 

"  I  take  with  pleasure  this  opportunity  of  doing  justice  to 
that  great  man,  whose  faults  I  knew,  whose  virtues  I  admired ; 
and  whose  memory,  as  the  greatest  general  and  the  greatest 
minister  that  our  country,  or  perhaps  any  other,  has  oroduced, 
I  honor."* 

War  was  formally  declared  by  the  allies  against  France  on 
the  4th  of  May,  1702.  The  principal  scenes  of  its  operation 
were,  at  first,  Flanders,  the  Upper  Rhine,  and  North  Italy. 
Marlborough  headed  the  allied  troops  in  Flanders  during  the 
first  two  years  of  the  war,  and  took  some  towns  from  the 
enemy,  but  nothing  decisive  occurred.  Nor  did  any  actions  of 
importance  take  place  during  this  period  between  the  rival 
armies  in  Italy.  But  in  the  centre  of  that  line  from  north  to 
south,  from  the  mouth  of  the  Scheldt  to  the  mouth  of  the  Po, 
along  which  the  war  was  carried  on,  the  generals  of  Louis  XIV. 
acquired  advantages  in  1703  which  threatened  one  chief  mem- 
ber of  the  Grand  Alliance  with  utter  destruction.  France  had 
obtained  the  important  assistance  of  Bavaria  as  her  confederate 
in  the  war.  The  elector  of  this  powerful  German  state  made 
himself  master  of  the  strong  fortress  of  Ulm,  and  opened  a 
communication  with  the  French  armies  on  the  Upper  Rhine. 
By  this  junction,  the  troops  of  Louis  were  enabled  to  assail  the 
emperor  in  the  very  heart  of  Germany.  In  the  autumn  of  the 
year  1703,  the  comoined  armies  of  the  elector  and  French  king 
completely  defeated  the  Imperialists  in  Bavaria;  and  in  the 
following  winter  they  made  themselves  masters  of  the  im- 
portant cities  of  Augsburg  and  Passau.  Meanwhile  the  French 
army  of  the  Upper  Rhine  and  Moselle  had  beaten  the  allied 
*  Bolingbroke,  vol.  ii.,  p.  445. 


268  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

armies  opposed  to  them,  and  taken  Treves  and  Landau.  At 
the  same  time,  the  discontents  in  Hungary  with  Austria  again 
broke  out  into  open  insurrection,  so  as  to  distract  the  attention 
and  complete  the  terror  of  the  emperor  and  his  council  at 
Vienna. 

Louis  XIV.  ordered  the  next  campaign  to  be  commenced 
by  his  troops  on  a  scale  of  grandeur  and  with  a  boldness  of 
enterprise  such  as  even  Napoleon's  military  schemes  have 
seldom  equalled.  On  the  extreme  left  of  the  line  of  the  war, 
in  the  Netherlands,  the  French  armies  were  to  act  only  on  the 
defensive.  The  fortresses  in  the  hands  of  the  French  there 
were  so  many  and  so  strong  that  no  serious  impression  seemed 
likely  to  be  made  by  the  allies  on  the  French  frontier  in  that 
quarter  during  one  campaign,  and  that  one  campaign  was  to 
give  France  such  triumphs  elsewhere  as  would  (it  was  hoped) 
determine  the  war.  Large  detachments  were  therefore  to  be 
made  from  the  French  force  in  Flanders,  and  they  were  to  be 
led  by  Marshal  Villeroy  to  the  Moselle  and  Upper  Rhine.  The 
French  army  already  in  the  neighborhood  of  those  rivers  was  to 
march  under  Marshal  Tallard  through  the  Black  Forest,  and 
join  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  and  the  French  troops  that  were 
already  with  the  elector  under  Marshal  Marsin.  Meanwhile 
the  French  army  of  Italy  was  to  advance  through  the  Tyrol 
into  Austria,  and  the  whole  forces  were  to  combine  between  the 
Danube  and  the  Inn.  A  strong  body  of  troops  was  to  be  de- 
spatched into  Hungary,  to  assist  and  organize  the  insurgents  in 
that  kingdom  ;  and  the  French  grand  army  of  the  Danube  was 
then  in  collected  and  irresistible  might  to  march  upon  Vienna, 
and  dictate  terms  of  peace  to  the  emperor.  High  military 
genius  was  shown  in  the  formation  of  this  plan,  but  it  was  met 
and  baffled  by  a  genius  higher  still. 

Marlborough  had  watched,  with  the  deepest  anxiety,  the 
progress  of  the  French  arms  on  the  Rhine  and  in  Bavaria,  and 
he  saw  the  futility  of  carrying  on  a  war  of  posts  and  sieges  in 
Flanders,  while  death-blows  to  the  empire  were  being  dealt 
on  the  Danube.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  let  the  war  in 
Flanders  languish  for  a  year,  while  he  moved  with  all  the  dis- 
posable forces  that  he  could  collect  to  the  central  scenes  of 
decisive  operations.  Such  a  march  was  in  itself  difficult ;  but 
Marlborough  had,  in  the  first  instance,  to  overcome  the  still 
greater  difficulty  of  obtaining  the  consent  and  cheerful  co- 


THE   BATTLE   OF   BLENHEIM  269 

operation  of  the  allies,  especially  of  the  Dutch,  whose  frontier 
it  was  proposed  thus  to  deprive  of  the  larger  part  of  the  force 
which  had  hitherto  been  its  protection.  Fortunately,  among 
the  many  slothful,  the  many  foolish,  the  many  timid,  and  the 
not  few  treacherous  rulers,  statesmen,  and  generals  of  different 
nations  with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  there  were  two  men,  eminent 
both  in  ability  and  integrity,  who  entered  fully  into  Marl- 
borough's projects,  and  who,  from  the  stations  which  they 
occupied,  were  enabled  materially  to  forward  them.  One  of 
these  was  the  Dutch  statesman  Heinsius,  who  had  been  the 
cordial  supporter  of  King  William,  and  who  now,  with  equal 
zeal  and  good  faith,  supported  Marlborough  in  the  councils  of 
the  allies  ;  the  other  was  the  celebrated  general,  Prince  Eugene, 
whom  the  Austrian  cabinet  had  recalled  from  the  Italian  fron- 
tier to  take  the  command  of  one  of  the  emperor's  armies  in 
Germany.  To  these  two  great  men,  and  a  few  more,  Marl- 
borough communicated  his  plan  freely  and  unreservedly ;  but 
to  the  general  councils  of  his  allies  he  only  disclosed  part  of 
his  daring  scheme.  He  proposed  to  the  Dutch  that  he  should 
march  from  Flanders  to  the  Upper  Rhine  and  Moselle  with  the 
British  troops  and  part  of  the  foreign  auxiliaries,  and  com- 
mence vigorous  operations  against  the  French  armies  in  that 
quarter,  while  General  Auverquerque,  with  the  Dutch  and 
the  remainder  of  the  auxiliaries,  maintained  a  defensive  war  in 
the  Netherlands.  Having  with  difficulty  obtained  the  consent 
of  the  Dutch  to  this  portion  of  his  project,  he  exercised  the 
same  diplomatic  zeal,  with  the  same  success,  in  urging  the 
King  of  Prussia,  and  other  princes  of  the  empire,  to  increase 
the  number  of  the  troops  which  they  supplied,  and  to  post 
them  in  places  convenient  for  his  own  intended  movements. 

Marlborough  commenced  his  celebrated  march  on  the  19th 
of  May.  The  army  which  he  was  to  lead  had  been  assembled 
by  his  brother.  General  Churchill,  at  Bedburg,  not  far  from 
Maestricht,  on  the  Meuse :  it  included  sixteen  thousand  Eng- 
lish troops,  and  consisted  of  fifty-one  battalions  of  foot  and 
ninety-two  squadrons  of  horse.  Marlborough  was  to  collect 
and  join  with  him  on  his  march  the  troops  of  Prussia,  Lune- 
burg,  and  Hesse,  quartered  on  the  Rhine,  and  eleven  Dutch 
battalions  that  were  stationed  at  Rothweil.*  He  had  only 
marched  a  single  day,  when  the  series  of  interruptions,  com- 
*  Coxe's  "  Life  of  Marlborough." 


270 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


plaints,  and  requisitions  from  the  other  leaders  of  the  allies  be- 
gan, to  which  he  seemed  subjected  throughout  his  enterprise, 
and  which  would  have  caused  its  failure  in  the  hands  of  any  one 
not  gifted  with  the  firmness  and  the  exquisite  temper  of  Marl- 
borough. One  specimen  of  these  annoyances  and  of  Marl- 
borough's mode  of  dealing  with  them,  may  suffice.  On  his  en- 
camping at  Kupen  on  the  20th,  he  received  an  express  from 
Auverquerque  pressing  him  to  halt,  because  Villeroy,  who  com- 
manded the  French  army  in  Flanders,  had  quitted  the  lines 
which  he  had  been  occupying,  and  crossed  the  Meuse  at  Nam.ur 
with  thirty-six  battalions  and  forty-five  squadrons,  and  was 
threatening  the  town  of  Huys.  At  the  same  time  Marlbor- 
ough received  letters  from  the  Margrave  of  Baden  and  Count 
Wratislaw,  who  commanded  the  Imperialist  forces  at  Stoll- 
hofTen,  near  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine,  stating  that  Tallard  had 
made  a  movement,  as  if  intending  to  cross  the  Rhine,  and  urg- 
ing him  to  hasten  his  march  towards  the  lines  of  StoUhofTen. 
Marlborough  was  not  diverted  by  these  applications  from  the 
prosecution  of  his  grand  design.  Conscious  that  the  army  of 
Villeroy  would  be  too  much  reduced  to  undertake  offensive 
operations,  by  the  detachments  which  had  already  been  made 
towards  the  Rhine,  and  those  which  must  follow  his  own  march, 
he  halted  only  a  day  to  quiet  the  alarms  of  Auverquerque.  Tg 
satisfy  also  the  margrave,  he  ordered  the  troops  of  Hompesch 
and  Bulow  to  draw  towards  Philipsburg,  though  with  private 
injunctions  not  to  proceed  beyond  a  certain  distance.  He  even 
exacted  a  promise  to  the  same  effect  from  Count  Wratislaw, 
who  at  the  juncture  arrived  at  the  camp  to  attend  him  during 
the  whole  campaign.* 

Marlborough  reached  the  Rhine  at  Coblentz,  where  he 
crossed  that  river,  and  then  marched  along  its  left  bank  to 
Broubach  and  Mentz.  His  march,  though  rapid,  was  admira- 
bly conducted,  so  as  to  save  the  troops  from  all  necessary 
fatigue ;  ample  supplies  of  provisions  were  ready,  and  the  most 
perfect  discipline  was  maintained.  By  degrees  Marlborough 
obtained  more  re-enforcements  from  the  Dutch  and  the  other 
confederates,  and  he  also  was  left  more  at  liberty  by  them  to 
follow  his  own  course.  Indeed,  before  even  a  blow  was  struck, 
his  enterprise  had  paralyzed  the  enemy,  and  had  materially 
relieved  Austria  from  the  pressure  of  the  war.  Villeroy,  with 
his  detachment^  from  the  French  Flemish  army,  was  com- 

*  Coxe. 


THE  BATTLE  OF   BLENHEIM  271 

pletely  bewildered  by  Marlborough's  movements ;  and,  unable 
to  divine  where  it  was  that  the  English  general  meant  to  strike 
his  blow,  wasted  away  the  early  part  of  the  summer  between 
Flanders  and  the  Moselle  without  effecting  anything.* 

Marshal  Tallard,  who  commanded  forty-five  thousand 
French  at  Strasburg,  and  who  had  been  destined  by  Louis 
to  march  early  in  the  year  into  Bavaria,  thought  that  Marl- 
borough's march  along  the  Rhine  was  preliminary  to  an  at- 
tack upon  Alsace  ;  and  the  marshal  therefore  kept  his  forty-five 
thousand  men  back  in  order  to  protect  France  in  that  quarter. 
Marlborough  skilfully  encouraged  his  apprehensions,  by  caus- 
ing a  bridge  to  be  constructed  across  the  Rhine  at  Philipsburg, 
and  by  making  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse  advance  his  artillery 
at  Manheim,  as  if  for  a  siege  of  Landau.  Meanwhile  the 
Elector  of  Bavaria  and  Marshal  Marsin,  suspecting  that  Marl- 
borough's design  might  be  what  it  really  proved  to  be,  forbore 
to  press  upon  the  Austrians  opposed  to  them,  or  to  send  troops 
into  Hungary ;  and  they  kept  back  so  as  to  secure  their  com- 
munications with  France.  Thus,  when  Marlborough,  at  the 
beginning  of  June,  left  the  Rhine  and  marched  for  the  Danube, 
the  numerous  hostile  armies  were  uncombined  and  unable  to 
check  him. 

"  With  such  skill  and  science  had  this  enterprise  been  con- 
certed that  at  the  very  moment  when  it  assumed  a  specific 
direction  the  enemy  was  no  longer  enabled  to  render  it  abor- 
tive. As  the  march  was  now  to  be  bent  towards  the  Dan- 
ube, notice  was  given  for  the  Prussians,  Palatines,  and  Hes- 
sians, who  were  stationed  on  the  Rhine,  to  order  their  march 
so  as  to  join  the  main  body  in  its  progress.  At  the  same  time 
directions  were  sent  to  accelerate  the  advance  of  the  Danish 
auxiliaries,  who  were  marching  from  the  Netherlands."  f 

Crossing  the  River  Neckar,  Marlborough  marched  in  a 
south-eastern  direction  to  Mundelshene,  where  he  had  his  first 
personal  interview  with  Prince  Eugene,  who  was  destined  to 
be  his  colleague  on  so  many  glorious  fields.  Thence,  through 
a  difficult  and  dangerous  country,  Marlborough  continued  his 
march  against  the  Bavarians,  whom  he  encountered  on  the 

*  "  Marshal  Villeroy,"  says  Voltaire,  "  who  had  wished  to  follow  Marl- 
borough on  his  first  marches,  suddenly  lost  sight  of  him  altogether,  and 
only  learned  where  he  really  was  on  hearing  of  his  victory  at  Donau- 
wert." — Sikle  de  Louis  XIV. 

t  Coxe. 


272  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

2d  of  July  on  the  heights  of  the  Schullenberg,  near  Donau- 
wert.  Marlborough  stormed  their  intrenched  camp,  crossed 
the  Danube,  took  several  strong  places  in  Bavaria,  and  made 
himself  completely  master  of  the  elector's  dominions,  except 
the  fortified  cities  of  Munich  and  Augsburg.  But  the  elector's 
army,  though  defeated  at  Donauwert,  was  still  numerous  and 
strong;  and  at  last  Marshal  Tallard,  when  thoroughly  ap- 
prised of  the  real  nature  of  Marlborough's  movements,  crossed 
the  Rhine ;  and  being  sufifered,  through  the  supineness  of  the 
German  general  at  Stollhofifen,  to  march  without  loss  through 
the  Black  Forest,  he  united  his  powerful  army  at  Biberbach, 
near  Augsburg,  with  that  of  the  elector  and  the  French  troops 
under  Marshal  Marsin,  who  had  previously  co-operating  with 
the  Bavarians. 

On  the  other  hand,  Marlborough  recrossed  the  Danube, 
and  on  the  nth  of  August  united  his  army  with  the  Imperial- 
ist forces  under  Prince  Eugene.  The  combined  armies  occu- 
pied a  position  near  Hochstadt,  a  little  higher  up  the  left  bank 
of  the  Danube  than  Donauwert,  the  scene  of  Marlborough's 
recent  victory,  and  almost  exactly  on  the  ground  where  Mar- 
shal Villars  and  the  elector  had  defeated  an  Austrian  army  in 
the  preceding  year.  The  French  marshals  and  the  elector 
were  now  in  position  a  little  farther  to  the  east,  between  Blen- 
heim and  Lutzingen,  and  with  the  little  stream  of  the  Nebel 
between  them  and  the  troops  of  Marlborough  and  Eugene. 
The  Gallo-Bavarian  army  consisted  of  about  sixty  thousand 
men,  and  they  had  sixty-one  pieces  of  artillery.  The  army  of  the 
allies  was  about  fifty-six  thousand  strong,  with  fifty-two  guns. 

Although  the  French  army  of  Italy  had  been  unable  to 
penetrate  into  Austria,  and  although  the  masterly  strategy  of 
Marlborough  had  hitherto  warded  off  the  destruction  with 
which  the  cause  of  the  allies  seemed  menaced  at  the  beginning 
of  the  campaign,  the  peril  was  still  more  serious.  It  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  Marlborough  to  attack  the  enemy  before 
Villeroy  should  be  roused  into  action.  There  was  nothing 
to  stop  that  general  and  his  army  from  marching  into  Fran- 
conia,  whence  the  aUies  drew  their  principal  supplies;  and 
besides  thus  distressing  them,  he  might,  by  marching  on  and 
joining  his  army  to  those  of  Tallard  and  the  elector,  form  a 
mass  which  would  overwhelm  the  force  under  Marlborough 
and  Eugene.     On  the  other  hand,  the  chances  of  a  battle 


THE   BATTLE   OF   BLENHEIM  273 

seemed  perilous,  and  the  fatal  consequences  of  a  defeat  were 
certain.  The  disadvantage  of  the  allies  in  point  of  number 
was  not  very  great,  but  still  it  was  not  to  be  disregarded ;  and 
the  advantage  which  the  enemy  seemed  to  have  in  the  com- 
position of  their  troops  was  striking.  Tallard  and  Marsin  had 
forty-five  thousand  Frenchmen  under  them,  all  veterans  and 
all  trained  to  act  together ;  the  elector's  own  troops  also  were 
good  soldiers.  Alarlborough,  like  Wellington  at  Waterloo, 
headed  an  army,  of  which  the  larger  proportion  consisted  not 
of  English,  but  of  men  of  many  different  nations  and  many 
dififerent  languages.  He  was  also  obliged  to  be  the  assailant 
in  the  action,  and  thus  to  expose  his  troops  to  comparatively 
heavy  loss  at  the  commencement  of  the  battle,  while  the  enemy 
would  fight  under  the  protection  of  the  villages  and  lines 
which  they  were  actively  engaged  in  strengthening.  The  con- 
sequences of  a  defeat  of  the  confederated  army  must  have 
broken  up  the  Grand  Alliance,  and  realized  the  proudest  hopes 
of  the  French  king.  Mr.  Alison,  in  his  admirable  military 
history  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  has  truly  stated  the  ef- 
fects which  would  have  taken  place  if  France  had  been  suc- 
cessful in  the  war ;  and  when  the  position  of  the  confederates 
at  the  time  when  Blenheim  was  fought  is  remembered — when 
we  recollect  the  exhaustion  of  Austria,  the  menacing  insur- 
rection of  Hungary,  the  feuds  and  jealousies  of  the  German 
princes,  the  strength  and  activity  of  the  Jacobite  party  in 
England,  and  the  imbecility  of  nearly  all  the  Dutch  statesmen 
of  the  time,  and  the  weakness  of  Holland  if  deprived  of  her 
allies,  we  may  adopt  his  words  in  speculating  on  what  would 
have  ensued  if  France  had  been  victorious  in  the  battle,  and 
"  if  a  power,  animated  by  the  ambition,  guided  by  the  fanat- 
icism, and  directed  by  the  ability  of  that  of  Louis  XIV.,  had 
gained  the  ascendancy  in  Europe.  Beyond  all  question,  a 
universal  despotic  dominion  would  have  been  established  over 
the  bodies,  a  cruel  spiritual  thraldom  over  the  minds,  of  men. 
France  and  Spain  united  under  Bourbon  princes  and  in  a 
close  family  alliance — the  empire  of  Charlemagne  with  that  of 
Charles  V. — the  power  which  revoked  the  Edict  of  Nantes 
and  perpetrated  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  with  that 
which  banished  the  Moriscoes  and  established  the  Inquisition, 
would  have  proved  irresistible,  and  beyond  example  destruc- 
tive to  the  best  interests  of  mankind. 
i3 


274  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

"  The  Protestants  might  have  been  driven,  like  the  pagan 
heathens  of  old  by  the  son  of  Pepin,  beyond  the  Elbe ;  the 
Stuart  race,  and  with  them  Romish  ascendancy,  might  have 
been  re-established  in  England ;  the  fire  lighted  by  Latimer 
and  Ridley  might  have  been  extinguished  in  blood ;  and  the 
energy  breathed  by  religious  freedom  into  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race  might  have  expired.  The  destinies  of  the  world  would 
have  been  changed.  Europe,  instead  of  a  variety  of  inde- 
pendent states,  whose  mutual  hostility  kept  alive  courage, 
while  their  national  rivalry  stimulated  talent,  would  have  sunk 
into  the  slumber  attendant  on  universal  dominion.  The  co- 
lonial empire  of  England  would  have  withered  away  and  per- 
ished, as  that  of  Spain  has  done  in  the  grasp  of  the  Inquisition. 
The  Anglo-Saxon  race  would  have  been  arrested  in  its  mis- 
sion to  overspread  the  earth  and  subdue  it.  The  centralized 
despotism  of  the  Roman  empire  would  have  been  renewed  on 
Continental  Europe ;  the  chains  of  Romish  tyranny,  and  with 
them  the  general  infidelity  of  France  before  the  Revolution, 
would  have  extinguished  or  perverted  thought  in  the  British 
Islands."  * 

Marlborough's  words  at  the  council  of  war,  when  a  battle 
was  resolved  on,  are  remarkable,  and  they  deserve  recording. 
We  know  them  on  the  authority  of  his  chaplain,  Mr.  (after- 
ward Bishop)  Hare,  who  accompanied  him  throughout  the 
campaign,  and  in  whose  journal  the  biographers  of  Marlbor- 
ough have  found  many  of  their  best  materials.  Marlborough's 
words  to  the  officers  who  remonstrated  with  him  on  the  seem- 
ing temerity  of  attacking  the  enemy  in  their  position  were, 
"  I  know  the  danger,  yet  a  battle  is  absolutely  necessary,  and 
I  rely  on  the  bravery  and  discipline  of  the  troops,  which  will 
make  amends  for  our  disadvantages."  In  the  evening  orders 
were  issued  for  a  general  engagement,  and  received  by  the 
army  with  an  alacrity  which  justified  his  confidence. 

The  French  and  Bavarians  were  posted  behind  a  little  stream 
called  the  Nebel,  which  runs  almost  from  north  to  south  into 
the  Danube  immediately  in  front  of  the  village  of  Blenheim. 
The  Nebel  flows  along  a  little  valley,  and  the  French  occupied 
the  rising  ground  to  the  west  of  it.  The  village  of  Blenheim 
was  the  extreme  right  of  their  position,  and  the  village  of 
Lutzingen,  about  three  miles  north  of  Blenheim,  formed  their 
*  Alison's  "  Life  of  Marlborough,"  p.  248. 


THE  BATTLE  OF   BLENHEIM  275 

left.  Beyond  Lutzingen  are  the  rugged  high  grounds  of  the 
Godd  Berg  and  Eich  Berg,  on  the  skirts  of  which  some  de- 
tachments were  posted,  so  as  to  secure  the  GaUo-Bavarian 
position  from  being  turned  on  the  left  flank.  The  Danube 
secured  their  right  flank;  and  it  was  only  in  front  that  they 
could  be  attacked.  The  villages  of  Blenheim  and  Lutzingen 
had  been  strongly  palisaded  and  intrenched;  Marshal  Tal- 
lard,  who  held  the  chief  command,  took  his  station  at  Blen- 
heim ;  the  elector  and  Marshal  Marsin  commanded  on  the 
left.  Tallard  garrisoned  Blenheim  with  twenty-six  battalions 
of  French  infantry  and  twelve  squadrons  of  French  cavalry. 
Alarsin  and  the  elector  had  twenty-two  battalions  of  infantry 
and  thirty-six  squadrons  of  cavalry  in  front  of  the  village  of 
Lutzingen.  The  centre  was  occupied  by  fourteen  battalions 
of  infantry,  including  the  celebrated  Irish  brigade.  These 
were  posted  in  the  little  hamlet  of  Oberglau,  which  lies  some- 
what nearer  to  Lutzingen  than  to  Blenheim.  Eighty  squad- 
rons of  cavalry  and  seven  battalions  of  foot  were  ranged  be- 
tween Oberglau  and  Blenheim.  Thus  the  French  position 
was  very  strong  at  each  extremity,  but  was  comparatively 
weak  in  the  centre.  Tallard  seems  to  have  relied  on  the 
swampy  state  of  the  part  of  the  valley  that  reaches  from  below 
Oberglau  to  Blenheim  for  preventing  any  serious  attack  on 
this  part  of  his  Hne. 

The  army  of  the  allies  was  formed  into  two  great  divisions, 
the  largest  being  commanded  by  the  duke  in  person,  and  be- 
ing destined  to  act  against  Tallard,  while  Prince  Eugene  led 
the  other  division,  which  consisted  chiefly  of  cavalry,  and  was 
intended  to  oppose  the  enemy  under  Marsin  and  the  elector. 
As  they  approached  the  enemy,  Marlborough's  troops  formed 
the  left  and  the  centre,  while  Eugene's  formed  the  right  of  the 
entire  army.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  August  the 
allies  left  their  own  camp  and  marched  towards  the  enemy.  A 
thick  haze  covered  the  ground,  and  it  was  not  until  the  allied 
right  and  centre  had  advanced  nearly  within  cannon  shot  of 
the  enemy  that  Tallard  was  aware  of  their  approach.  He 
made  his  preparations  with  what  haste  he  could,  and  about 
eight  o'clock  a  heavy  fire  of  artillery  was  opened  from  the 
French  right  on  the  advancing  left  wing  of  the  British.  Marl- 
borough ordered  up  some  of  his  batteries  to  reply  to  it,  and 
while  the  columns  that  were  to  form  the  allied  left  and  centre 


276  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

deployed,  and  took  up  their  proper  stations  in  the  line,  a  warm 
cannonade  was  kept  up  by  the  guns  on  both  sides. 

The  ground  which  Eugene's  columns  had  to  traverse  was 
peculiarly  difficult,  especially  for  the  passage  of  the  artillery, 
and  it  was  nearly  mid-day  before  he  could  get  his  troops  into 
line  opposite  to  Lutzingen.  During  this  interval,  Marlborough 
ordered  divine  service  to  be  performed  by  the  chaplains  at  the 
head  of  each  regiment,  and  then  rode  alone  the  lines,  and 
found  both  officers  and  men  in  the  highest  spirits,  and  wait- 
ing impatiently  for  the  signal  for  the  attack.  At  length  an  aide- 
de-camp  galloped  up  from  the  right  with  the  welcome  news 
that  Eugene  was  ready.  Marlborough  instantly  sent  Lord 
Cutts,  with  a  strong  brigade  of  infantry,  to  assault  the  village 
of  Blenheim,  while  he  himself  led  the  main  body  down  the 
eastward  slope  of  the  valley  of  the  Nebel,  and  prepared  to 
effect  the  passage  of  the  stream. 

The  assault  on  Blenheim,  though  bravely  made,  was  re- 
pulsed with  severe  loss,  and  Marlborough,  finding  how  strong- 
ly that  village  was  garrisoned,  desisted  from  any  further  at- 
tempts to  carry  it,  and  bent  all  his  energies  to  breaking  the 
enemy's  line  between  Blenheim  and  Oberglau.  Some  tem- 
porary bridges  had  been  prepared,  and  planks  and  fascines  had 
been  collected ;  and  by  the  aid  of  these,  and  a  little  stone  bridge 
which  crossed  the  Nebel,  near  a  hamlet  called  Unterglau,  that 
lay  in  the  centre  of  the  valley,  Marlborough  succeeded  in  get- 
ting several  squadrons  across  the  Nebel,  though  it  was  di- 
vided into  several  branches,  and  the  ground  between  them 
was  soft,  and,  in  places,  little  better  than  a  mere  marsh.  But 
the  French  artillery  was  not  idle.  The  cannon  balls  plunged 
incessantly  among  the  advancing  squadrons  of  the  allies,  and 
bodies  of  French  cavalry  rode  frequently  down  from  the  west- 
ern ridge,  to  charge  them  before  they  had  time  to  form  on  the 
firm  ground.  It  was  only  by  supporting  his  men  by  fresh 
troops,  and  by  bringing  up  infantry,  who  checked  the  advance 
of  the  enemy's  horse  by  their  steady  fire,  that  Marlborough 
was  able  to  save  his  army  in  this  quarter  from  a  repulse,  which, 
succeeding  the  failure  of  the  attack  upon  Blenheim,  would 
probably  have  been  fatal  to  the  allies.  By  degrees,  his  cavaln,' 
struggled  over  the  blood-stained  streams ;  the  infantry  were 
also  now  brought  across,  so  as  to  keep  in  check  the  French 
troops  who  held  Blenheim,  and  who,  when  no  longer  assailed 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM  277 

in  front,  had  begun  to  attack  the  allies  on  their  left  with  con- 
siderable effect. 

Marlborough  had  thus  at  last  succeeded  in  drawing  up  the 
whole  left  wing  of  his  army  beyond  the  Nebel,  and  was  about 
to  press  forward  with  it,  when  he  was  called  away  to  another 
part  of  the  field  by  a  disaster  that  had  befallen  his  centre.  The 
Prince  of  Holstein-Beck  had,  with  eleven  Hanoverian  battal- 
ions, passed  the  Nebel  opposite  to  Oberglau,  when  he  was 
charged  and  utterly  routed  by  the  Irish  brigade  which  held  that 
village.  The  Irish  drove  the  Hanoverians  back  with  heavy 
slaughter,  broke  completely  through  the  line  of  the  allies,  and 
nearly  achieved  a  success  as  brilliant  as  that  which  the  same 
brigade  afterwards  gained  at  Fontenoy.  But  at  Blenheim  their 
ardor  in  pursuit  led  them  too  far.  Marlborough  came  up  in 
person,  and  dashed  in  upon  the  exposed  flank  of  the  brigade 
with  some  squadrons  of  British  cavalry.  The  Irish  reeled  back, 
and  as  they  strove  to  regain  the  height  of  Oberglau,  their 
column  was  raked  through  and  through  by  the  fire  of  three 
battalions  of  the  allies,  which  Marlborough  had  summoned  up 
from  the  reserve.  Marlborough  having  re-established  the 
order  and  communications  of  the  allies  in  this  quarter,  now,  as 
he  returned  to  his  own  left  wing,  sent  to  learn  how  his  col- 
league fared  against  Marsin  and  the  elector,  and  to  inform 
Eugene  of  his  own  success. 

Eugene  had  hitherto  not  been  equally  fortunate.  He  had 
made  three  attacks  on  the  enemy  opposed  to  him,  and  had 
been  thrice  driven  back.  It  was  only  by  his  own  desperate 
personal  exertions,  and  the  remarkable  steadiness  of  the  regi- 
ments of  Prussian  infantry,  which  were  under  him,  that  he  was 
able  to  save  his  wing  from  being  totally  defeated.  But  it  was 
on  the  southern  part  of  the  battlefield,  on  the  ground  which 
Marlborough  had  won  beyond  the  Nebel  with  such  difiiculty, 
that  the  crisis  of  the  battle  was  to  be  decided. 

Like  Hannibal,  Marlborough  relied  principally  on  his  cav- 
alry for  achieving  his  decisive  successes,  and  it  was  by  his 
cavalry  that  Blenheim,  the  greatest  of  his  victories,  was  won. 
The  battle  had  lasted  till  five  in  the  afternoon.  Marlborough 
had  now  eight  thousand  horsemen  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  and 
in  the  most  perfect  order  for  a  general  attack  on  the  enemy's 
line  along  the  space  between  Blenheim  and  Oberglau.  The 
infantry  was  drawn  up  in  battalions  in  their  rear,  so  as  to  sup- 


278  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

port  them  if  repulsed,  and  to  keep  in  check  the  large  masses 
of  the  French  that  still  occupied  the  village  of  Blenheim.  Tal- 
lard  now  interlaced  his  squadrons  of  cavalry  with  battalions  of 
infantry,  and  Marlborough,  by  a  corresponding  movement, 
brought  several  regiments  of  infantry  and  some  pieces  of  artil- 
lery to  his  front  line  at  intervals  between  the  bodies  of  horse. 
A  little  after  five,  Marlborough  commenced  the  decisive  move- 
ment, and  the  allied  cavalry,  strengthened  and  supported  by 
foot  and  guns,  advanced  slowly  from  the  lower  ground  near 
the  Nebel  up  the  slope  to  where  the  French  cavalry,  ten 
thousand  strong,  awaited  them.  On  riding  over  the  summit 
of  the  acclivity,  the  allies  were  received  with  so  hot  a  fire  from 
the  French  artillery  and  small  arms  that  at  first  the  cavalry 
recoiled,  but  without  abandoning  the  high  ground.  The  guns 
and  the  infantry  which  they  had  brought  with  them  maintained 
the  contest  with  spirit  and  effect.  The  French  fire  seemed 
to  slacken.  Marlborough  instantly  ordered  a  charge  along 
the  line.  The  allied  cavalry  galloped  forward  at  the  enemy's 
squadrons,  and  the  hearts  of  the  French  horsemen  failed  them. 
Discharging  their  carbines  at  an  idle  distance,  they  wheeled 
round  and  spurred  from  the  field,  leaving  the  nine  infantry  bat- 
talions of  their  comrades  to  be  ridden  down  by  the  torrent  of 
the  allied  cavalry.  The  battle  was  now  won.  Tallard  and  Mar- 
sin,  severed  from  each  other,  thought  only  of  retreat.  Tallard 
drew  up  the  squadrons  of  horse  that  he  had  left,  in  a  line  ex- 
tended towards  Blenheim,  and  sent  orders  to  the  infantry  in 
that  village  to  leave  it  and  join  him  without  delay.  But,  long 
ere  his  orders  could  be  obeyed,  the  conquering  squadrons  of 
Marlborough  had  wheeled  to  the  left  and  thundered  down  on 
the  feeble  array  of  the  French  marshal.  Part  of  the  force  which 
Tallard  had  drawn  up  for  this  last  efifort  was  driven  into  the 
Danube ;  part  fled  with  their  general  to  the  village  of  Sonder- 
heim,  where  they  were  soon  surrounded  by  the  victorious  allies, 
and  compelled  to  surrender.  Meanwhile,  Eugene  had  renewed 
his  attack  upon  the  Gallo-Bavarian  left,  and  Marsin,  finding  his 
colleague  utterly  routed,  and  his  own  right  fiank  uncovered 
prepared  to  retreat.  He  and  the  elector  succeeded  in  with- 
drawing a  considerable  part  of  their  troops  in  tolerable  order 
to  Dillingen ;  but  the  large  body  of  French  who  garrisoned 
Blenheim  were  left  exposed  to  certain  destruction.  Marl- 
iborough  speedily  occupied  all  the  outlets  from  the  village  with 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM 


279 


his  victorious  troops,  and  then,  collecting  his  artillery  round 
it,  he  commenced  a  cannonade  that  speedily  would  have  de- 
stroyed Blenheim  itself  and  all  who  were  in  it.  After  several 
gallant  but  unsuccessful  attempts  to  cut  their  way  through  the 
allies,  the  French  in  Blenheim  were  at  length  compelled  to 
surrender  at  discretion  ;  and  twenty-four  battalions  and  twelve 
squadrons,  with  all  their  officers,  laid  down  their  arms,  and 
became  the  captives  of  Marlborough. 

"  Such,"  says  Voltaire,  "  was  the  celebrated  battle  which  the 
French  called  the  battle  of  Hochstet,  the  Germans  Plentheim, 
and  the  English  Blenheim.  The  conquerors  had  about  five 
thousand  killed  and  eight  thousand  wounded,  the  greater  part 
being  on  the  side  of  Prince  Eugene.  The  French  army  was 
almost  entirely  destroyed :  of  sixty  thousand  men,  so  long 
victorious,  there  never  reassembled  more  than  twenty  thousand 
efifective.  About  twelve  thousand  killed,  fourteen  thousand 
prisoners,  all  the  cannon,  a  prodigious  number  of  colors  and 
standards,  all  the  tents  and  equipages,  the  general  of  the  army, 
and  one  thousand  two  hundred  officers  of  mark  in  the  power 
of  the  conqueror,  signalized  that  day !  " 

Ulm,  Landau,  Treves,  and  Traerbach  surrendered  to  the 
allies  before  the  close  of  the  year.  Bavaria  submitted  to  the 
emperor,  and  the  Hungarians  laid  down  their  arms.  Ger- 
many was  completely  delivered  from  France,  and  the  military 
ascendancy  of  the  arms  of  the  allies  was  completely  established. 
Throughout  the  rest  of  the  war  Louis  fought  only  in  defence. 
Blenheim  had  dissipated  forever  his  once  proud  visions  of  al- 
most universal  conquest. 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Blenheim^  a.d. 
1704,  AND  THE  Battle  of  Pultowa,  a.d.  1709. 

A.D.  1705.  The  Archduke  Charles  lands  in  Spain  with  a 
small  English  army  under  Lord  Peterborough,  who  takes 
Barcelona. 

1706.  Marlborough's  victory  at  Ramillies. 

1707.  The  English  army  in  Spain  is  defeated  at  the  battle  of 
Almanza. 

1708.  Marlborough's  victory  at  Oudenarde. 


CHAPTER   XII. 
THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA,    A.D.    1709. 

"  Dread  Pultowa's  day, 
When  fortune  left  the  royal  Swede, 
Around  a  slaughtered  army  lay, 

No  more  to  combat  and  to  bleed. 
The  power  and  fortune  of  the  war 
Had  passed  to  the  triumphant  Czar." 

— BYROisr. 

NAPOLEON  prophesied,  at  St.  Helena,  that  all  Europe 
would  soon  be  either  Cossack  or  republican.  Three 
years  ago  the  fulfilment  of  the  last  of  these  alterna- 
tives appeared  most  probable.  But  the  democratic  movements 
of  1848  were  sternly  repressed  in  1849.  The  absolute  author- 
ity of  a  single  ruler  and  the  austere  stillness  of  martial  law 
are  now  paramount  in  the  capitals  of  the  Continent,  which 
lately  owned  no  sovereignty  save  the  will  of  the  multitude,  and 
where  that  which  the  Democrat  calls  his  sacred  right  of  insur- 
rection was  so  loudly  asserted  and  so  often  fiercely  enforced. 
Many  causes  have  contributed  to  bring  about  this  reaction, 
but  the  most  effective  and  the  most  permanent  have  been  Rus- 
sian influence  and  Russian  arms.  Russia  is  now  the  avowed 
and  acknowledged  champion  of  monarchy  against  democracy ; 
of  constituted  authority,  however  acquired,  against  revolution 
and  change,  for  whatever  purpose  desired ;  of  the  imperial 
supremacy  of  strong  states  over  their  weaker  neighbors  against 
all  claims  for  political  independence  and  all  strivings  for  sepa- 
rate nationality.  She  had  crushed  the  heroic  Hungarians ;  and 
Austria,  for  whom  nominally  she  crushed  them,  is  now  one 
of  her  dependents.  Whether  the  rumors  of  her  being  about 
to  engage  in  fresh  enterprises  be  well  or  ill  founded,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  recent  events  must  have  fearfully  augmented  the 
power  of  the  Muscovite  empire,  which,  even  previously,  had 
been  the  object  of  well-founded  anxiety  to  all  Western  Europe. 

280 


THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA.  281 

It  was  truly  stated,  eleven  years  ago,  that  "  the  acquisitions 
which  Russia  has  made  within  the  [then]  last  sixty-four  years 
are  equal  in  extent  and  importance  to  the  whole  empire  she 
had  in  Europe  before  that  time ;  that  the  acquisitions  she  has 
made  from  Sweden  are  greater  than  what  remains  of  that 
ancient  kingdom ;  that  her  acquisitions  from  Poland  are  as 
large  as  the  whole  Austrian  empire ;  that  the  territory  she  has 
wrested  from  Turkey  in  Europe  is  equal  to  the  dominions  of 
Prussia,  exclusive  of  her  Rhenish  provinces ;  and  that  her  ac- 
quisitions from  Turkey  in  Asia  are  equal  in  extent  to  all  the 
smaller  states  of  Germany,  the  Rhenish  provinces  of  Prussia, 
Belgium,  and  Holland  taken  together;  that  the  country  she 
has  conquered  from  Persia  is  about  the  size  of  England ;  that 
her  acquisitions  in  Tartary  have  an  area  equal  to  Turkey  in 
Europe,  Greece,  Italy,  and  Spain,  In  sixty-four  years  she  has 
advanced  her  frontier  eight  hundred  and  fifty  miles  towards 
Vienna,  Berlin,  Dresden,  Munich,  and  Paris ;  she  has  ap- 
proached four  hundred  and  fifty  miles  nearer  to  Constanti- 
nople ;  she  has  possessed  herself  of  the  capital  of  Poland,  and 
has  advanced  to  within  a  few  miles  of  the  capital  of  Sweden, 
from  which,  when  Peter  the  First  mounted  the  throne,  her 
frontier  was  distant  three  hundred  miles.  Since  that  time  she 
has  stretched  herself  forward  about  one  thousand  miles  towards 
India,  and  the  same  distance  towards  the  capital  of  Persia."* 

Such,  at  that  period,  had  been  the  recent  aggrandizement  of 
Russia  ;  and  the  events  of  the  last  few  years,  by  weakening  and 
disuniting  all  her  European  neighbors,  have  immeasurably 
augmented  the  relative  superiority  of  the  Muscovite  empire 
over  all  the  other  Continental  powers. 

With  a  population  exceeding  sixty  millions,  all  implicitly 
obeying  the  impulse  of  a  single  ruling  mind ;  with  a  territorial 
area  of  six  millions  and  a  half  of  square  miles  ;  with  a  standing 
army  eight  hundred  thousand  strong ;  with  powerful  fleets  on 
the  Baltic  and  Black  seas ;  with  a  skilful  host  of  diplomatic 
agents  planted  in  every  court  and  among  every  tribe  ;  with  the 
confidence  which  unexpected  success  creates,  and  the  sagacity 
which  long  experience  fosters,  Russia  now  grasps,  with  an 
armed  right  hand,  the  tangled  thread  of  European  politics,  and 
issues  her  mandates  as  the  arbitress  of  the  movements  of  the 
age.  Yet  a  century  and  a  half  have  hardly  elapsed  since  she 
*  "  Progress  of  Russia  in  the  East,"  p.   142. 


282  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

was  first  recognized  as  a  member  of  the  drama  of  modern 
European  history — previous  to  the  battle  of  Pultovva,  Russia 
played  no  part.  Charles  V.  and  his  great  rival,  our  Elizabeth 
and  her  adversary  Philip  of  Spain,  the  Guises,  Sully,  Richelieu, 
Cromwell,  De  Witt,  William  of  Orange,  and  the  other  leading 
spirits  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  thought  no 
more  about  the  Muscovite  Czar  than  we  now  think  about  the 
King  of  Timbuctoo.  Even  as  late  as  1735,  Lord  Bolingbroke, 
in  his  admirable  "  Letters  on  History,"  speaks  of  the  history 
of  the  Muscovites  as  having  no  relation  to  the  knowledge 
which  a  practical  English  statesman  ought  to  acquire.*  It 
may  be  doubted  whether  a  cabinet  council  often  takes  place 
now  in  our  Foreign  Office  without  Russia  being  uppermost 
in  every  English  statesman's  thoughts. 

But,  though  Russia  remained  thus  long  unheeded  among 
her  snows,  there  was  a  Northern  power,  the  influence  of  which 
was  acknowledged  in  the  principal  European  quarrels,  and 
whose  good-will  was  sedulously  courted  by  many  of  the  bold- 
est chiefs  and  ablest  counsellors  of  the  leading  states.  This  was 
Sweden ;  Sweden,  on  whose  ruins  Russia  has  risen,  but  whose 
ascendancy  over  her  semi-barbarous  neighbor  was  complete, 
until  the  fatal  battle  that  now  forms  our  subject. 

As  early  as  1542  France  had  sought  the  alliance  of  Sweden 
to  aid  her  in  her  struggle  against  Charles  V.  And  the  name 
of  Gustavus  Adolphus  is  of  itself  sufficient  to  remind  us  that 
in  the  great  contest  for  religious  liberty,  of  which  Germany  was 
for  thirty  years  the  arena,  it  was  Sweden  that  rescued  the  fall- 
ing cause  of  Protestantism,  and  it  was  Sweden  that  principally 
dictated  the  remodelling  of  the  European  state-system  at  the 
peace  of  Westphalia. 

From  the  proud  pre-eminence  in  which  the  valor  of  the 
"  Lion  of  the  North,"  and  of  Torstenston,  Bannier,  Wrangel, 
and  the  other  generals  of  Gustavus,  guided  by  the  wisdom  of 
Oxenstiern,  had  placed  Sweden,  the  defeat  of  Charles  XIL  at 
Pultowa  hurled  her  down  at  once  and  forever.  Her  efforts  dur- 
ing the  wars  of  the  French  Revolution  to  assume  a  leading 
part  in  European  politics  met  with  instant  discomfiture,  and 
almost  provoked  derision.      But  the  Sweden  whose  sceptre 

*  BoHngbroke's  Works,  vol.  ii..  p.  374.  In  the  same  page  he  observes 
hovir  Sweden  had  often  turned  her  arms  southv^rard  with  prodigious 
effect. 


THE    BATTLE   OF   PULTOWA.  283 

was  bequeathed  to  Christina,  and  whose  alliance  Cromwell 
valued  so  highly,  was  a  different  power  to  the  Sweden  of  the 
present  day,  Finland,  Ingria,  Livonia,  Esthonia,  Carelia,  and 
other  districts  east  of  the  Baltic  then  were  Swedish  provinces ; 
and  the  possession  of  Pomerania,  Rugen,  and  Bremen  made 
her  an  important  member  of  the  Germanic  empire.  These  ter- 
ritories are  now  all  reft  from  her,  and  the  most  valuable  of  them 
form  the  staple  of  her  victorious  rival's  strength.  Could  she 
resume  them — could  the  Sweden  of  1648  be  reconstructed,  we 
should  have  a  first-class  Scandinavian  state  in  the  North,  well 
qualified  to  maintain  the  balance  of  power,  and  check  the  pro- 
gress of  Russia ;  whose  power,  indeed,  never  could  have  be- 
come formidable  to  Europe  save  by  Sweden  becoming  weak. 

The  decisive -triumpb  of  Russiaover  Sweden  at  Pultowa  was 
therefore  all-important  to  the  world,  on  account  of  what  it 
overthrew  as  well  as  for  what  it  established;  and  it  is  the 
more  deeply  interesting,  because  it  was  not  merely  the  crisis 
of  a  struggle  between  two  states,  but  it  was  a  trial  of  strength 
between  two  great  races  of  mankind.  We  must  bear  in  mind, 
that  while  the  Swedes,  like  the  English,  the  Dutch,  and  others, 
belong  to  the  Germanic  race,  the  Russians  are  a  Sclavonic 
people.  Nations  of  Sclavonian  origin  have  long  occupied  the 
greater  part  of  Europe  eastward  of  the  Vistula ;  and  the  popula- 
tions also  of  Bohemia,  Croatia,  Servia,  Dalmatia,  and  other 
important  regions  westward  of  that  river  are  Sclavonic.  In  the 
long  and  varied  conflicts  between  them  and  the  Germanic  na- 
tions that  adjoin  them,  the  Germanic  race  had,  before  Pultowa, 
almost  always  maintained  a  superiority.  With  the  single  but 
important  exception  of  Poland,  no  Sclavonic  state  had  made 
any  considerable  figure  in  history  before  the  time  when  Peter 
the  Great  won  his  great  victory  over  the  Swedish  king.*  What 
Russia  has  done  since  that  time  we  know  and  we  feel.  And 
some  of  the  wisest  and  best  men  of  our  own  age  and  nations, 
who  have  watched  with  deepest  care  the  annals  and  the  des- 
tinies of  humanity,  have  believed  that  the  Sclavonic  element 
in  the  population  of  Europe  has  as  yet  only  partially  developed 
its  powers ;  that,  while  other  races  of  mankind  (our  own,  the 
Germanic,  included)  have  exhausted  their  creative  energies 
and  completed  their  allotted  achievements,  the  Sclavonic  race 
has  yet  a  great  career  to  run ;  and  that  the  narrative  of  Scla- 

*  The  Hussite  wars  may,  perhaps,  entitle  Bohemia  to  be  distinguished. 


284  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

vonic  ascendency  is  the  remaining  page  that  will  conclude  the 
history  of  the  world.* 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  in  thus  regarding  the  primary  tri- 
umph of  Russia  over  Sweden  as  a  victory  of  the  Sclavonic  over 
the  Germanic  race,  we  are  dealing  with  matters  of  mere  eth- 
nological pedantry,  or  with  themes  of  mere  speculative  curios- 
ity. The  fact  that  Russia  is  a  Sclavonic  empire  is  a  fact  of 
immense  practical  influence  at  the  present  moment.  Half  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Austrian  empire  are  Sclavonians.  The  popu- 
lation of  the  larger  part  of  Turkey  in  Europe  is  of  the  same  race. 
Silesia,  Posen,  and  other  parts  of  the  Prussian  dominions  are 
principally  Sclavonic.  And  during  late  years,  an  enthusiastic 
zeal  for  blending  all  Sclavonians  into  one  great  united  Scla- 
vonic empire  has  been  growing  up  in  these  countries,  which, 
however  we  may  deride  its  principle,  is  not  the  less  real  and 
active,  and  of  which  Russia,  as  the  head  and  the  champion  of 
the  Sclavonic  race,  knows  well  how  to  take  her  advantage.} 

*  See  Arnold's  "  Lectures  on  Modern  History,"  pp.  36 — 39. 

t "  The  idea  of  Panslavism  had  a  purely  literary  origin.  It  was 
started  by  Kollar,  a  Protestant  clergyman  of  the  Sclavonic  congrega- 
tion at  Pesth,  in  Hungary,  who  wished  to  establish  a  national  literature 
by  circulating  all  works,  written  in  the  various  Sclavonic  dialects, 
through  every  country  where  and  of  them  are  spoken.  He  suggested 
that  all  the  Sclavonic  literati  should  become  acquainted  with  the  sister 
dialects,  so  that  a  Bohemian,  or  other  work,  might  be  read  on  the  shores 
of  the  Adriatic  as  well  as  on  the  banks  of  the  Volga  or  any  other  place 
where  a  Sclavonic  language  was  spoken;  by  which  means  an  extensive 
literature  might  be  created,  tending  to  advance  knowledge  in  all  Scla- 
vonic countries;  and  he  supported  his  arguments  by  observing  that  the 
dialects  of  ancient  Greece  diiifered  from  each  other  like  those  of  his  own 
language,  and  yet  that  they  formed  only  one  Hellenic  literature.  The 
idea  of  an  intellectual  union  of  all  those  nations  naturally  led  to  that  of  a 
political  one;  and  the  Sclavonians,  seeing  that  their  numbers  amounted 
to  about  one-third  part  of  the  whole  population  of  Europe,  and  occu- 
pied more  than  half  its  territory,  began  to  be  sensible  that  they  might 
claim  for  themselves  a  position  to  which  they  had  not  hitherto  aspired. 

"  The  opinion  gained  ground ;  and  the  question  now  is,  whether  the 
Slcavonians  can  form  a  nation  independent  of  Russia,  or  whether  they 
ought  to  rest  satisfied  in  being  part  of  one  great  race,  with  the  most 
powerful  member  of  it  as  their  chief.  The  latter,  indeed,  is  gaining 
ground  among  them ;  and  some  Poles  are  disponed  to  attribute  their 
sufferings  to  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  Czar,  without  extending  the  blame 
to  the  Russians  themselves.  These  begin  to  think  that,  if  they  cannot 
exist  as  Poles,  the  best  thing  to  be  done  is  to  rest  satisfied  with  a  posi- 
tion in  the  Sclavonic  empire,  and  they  hope  that  when  once  they  give  up 
the  idea  of  restoring  their  country,  Russia  may  grant  some  concessions 
to  their  separate  nationality. 

'*  The  same  idea  has  been  put  forward  by  writers  in  the  Russian  inter- 
est; great  efforts  are  making  among  other  Sclavonic  people  to  induce 
them  to  look  upon  Russia  as  their  ftiture  head,  and  she  has  already 
gained  considerable  influence  over  the  Sclavonic  populations  of  Tur^ 
key." — \ViLKiN.so:.-'s  Dabnatia 


THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA  285 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  Russia  owes  her  very  name  to  a 
band  of  Swedish  invaders  who  conquered  her  a  thousand  years 
ago.  They  were  soon  absorbed  in  the  Sclavonic  population, 
and  every  trace  of  the  Swedish  character  had  disappeared  in 
Russia  for  many  centuries  before  her  invasion  by  Charles  XII. 
She  was  long  the  victim  and  the  slave  of  the  Tartars ;  and  for 
many  considerable  periods  of  years  the  Poles  held  her  in  sub- 
jugation. Indeed,  if  we  except  the  expeditions  of  some  of  the 
early  Russian  chiefs  against  Byzantium,  and  the  reign  of  Ivan 
Vasilovitch,  the  history  of  Russia  before  the  time  of  Peter  the 
Great  is  one  long  tale  of  suffering  and  degradation. 

But,  whatever  may  have  been  the  amount  of  national  injuries 
that  she  sustained  from  Swede,  from  Tartar,  or  from  Pole  in 
the  ages  of  her  weakness,  she  has  certainly  retaliated  ten-fold 
during  the  century  and  a  half  of  her  strength.  Her  rapid  tran- 
sition at  the  commencement  of  that  period  from  being  the  prey 
of  every  conqueror  to  being  the  conqueror  of  all  with  whom  she 
comes  into  contact,  to  being  the  oppressor  instead  of  the  op- 
pressed, is  almost  without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of  nations. 
It  was  the  work  of  a  single  ruler ;  who,  himself  without  edu- 
cation, promoted  science  and  literature  among  barbaric  mill- 
ions ;  who  gave  them  fleets,  commerce,  arts,  and  arms ;  who, 
at  Pultowa,  taught  them  to  face  and  beat  the  previously  in- 
vincible Swedes ;  and  who  made  stubborn  valor  and  implicit 
subordination  from  that  time  forth  the  distinguishing  charac- 
teristics of  the  Russian  soldiery,  which  had  before  his  time  been 
a  mere  disorderly  and  irresolute  rabble. 

The  career  of  Philip  of  Macedon  resembles  most  nearly  that 
of  the  great  Muscovite  Czar:  but  there  is  this  important  dif- 
ference, that  Philip  had,  while  young,  received  in  Southern 
Greece  the  best  education  in  all  matters  of  peace  and  war  that 
the  ablest  philosophers  and  generals  of  the  age  could  bestow. 
Peter  was  brought  up  among  barbarians  and  in  barbaric  ig- 
norance. He  strove  to  remedy  this,  when  a  grown  man,  by 
leaving  all  the  temptations  to  idleness  and  sensuality  which  his 
court  offered,  and  by  seeking  instruction  abroad.  He  labored 
with  his  own  hands  as  a  common  artisan  in  Holland  and  Eng- 
land, that  he  might  return  and  teach  his  subjects  how  ships, 
commerce,  and  civilization  could  be  acquired.  There  is  a  de- 
gree of  heroism  here  superior  to  anything  that  we  know  of  in 
the  Macedonian  king.    But  Philip's  consolidation  of  the  long- 


286  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

disunited  Macedonian  empire ;  his  raising  a  people,  which 
he  found  the  scorn  of  their  civilized  Southern  neighbors,  to  be 
their  dread ;  his  organization  of  a  brave  and  well-disciplined 
army  instead  of  a  disorderly  militia ;  his  creation  of  a  maritime 
force,  and  his  systematic  skill  in  acquiring  and  improving  sea- 
ports and  arsenals ;  his  patient  tenacity  of  purpose  under  re- 
verses ;  his  personal  bravery,  and  even  his  proneness  to  coarse 
amusements  and  pleasures, — all  mark  him  out  as  the  prototype 
of  the  imperial  founder  of  the  Russian  power.  In  justice,  how- 
ever, to  the  ancient  hero,  it  ought  to  be  added  that  we  find  in 
the  history  of  Philip  no  examples  of  that  savage  cruelty  which 
deforms  so  grievously  the  character  of  Peter  the  Great. 

In  considering  the  eflfects  of  the  overthrow  which  the 
Swedish  arms  sustained  at  Pultowa,  and  in  speculating  on  the 
probable  consequences  that  would  have  followed  if  the  in- 
vaders had  been  successful,  we  must  not  only  bear  in  mind  the 
wretched  state  in  which  Peter  found  Russia  at  his  accession, 
compared  with  her  present  grandeur,  but  we  must  also  keep  in 
view  the  fact  that,  at  the  time  when  Pultowa  was  fought,  his 
reforms  were  yet  incomplete,  and  his  new  institutions  imma- 
ture. He  had  broken  up  the  Old  Russia ;  and  the  New  Rus- 
sia, which  he  ultimately  created,  was  still  in  embryo.  Had  he 
been  crushed  at  Pultowa,  his  immense  labors  would  have  been 
buried  with  him,  and  (to  use  the  words  of  Voltaire)  "  the  most 
extensive  empire  in  the  world  would  have  relapsed  into  the 
chaos  from  which  it  had  been  so  lately  taken."  It  is  this  fact 
that  makes  the  repulse  of  Charles  XII.  the  critical  point  in 
the  fortunes  of  Russia.  The  danger  which  she  incurred  a 
century  afterwards  from  her  invasion  by  Napoleon  was  in 
reality  far  less  than  her  peril  when  Charles  attacked  her,  though 
the  French  emperor,  as  a  military  genius,  was  infinitely  su- 
perior to  the  Swedish  king,  and  led  a  host  against  her,  com- 
pared with  which  the  armies  of  Charles  seem  almost  insig- 
nificant. But,  as  Fouche  well  warned  his  imperial  master, 
when  he  vainly  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  his  disastrous 
expedition  against  the  empire  of  the  Czars,  the  difference  be- 
tween the  Russia  of  1812  and  the  Russia  of  1709  was  greater 
than  the  disparity  between  the  power  of  Charles  and  the  might 
of  Napoleon.  "  If  that  heroic  king,"  said  Fouche,  "  had  not. 
like  your  imperial  majesty,  half  Europe  in  arms  to  back  him, 
neither  had  his  opponent,  the  Czar  Peter,  400,000  soldiers  and 


THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA.  287 

50,000  Cossacks."  The  historians  who  describe  the  state  of 
the  Muscovite  empire  when  revolutionary  and  imperial  France 
encountered  it,  narrate  with  truth  and  justice  how,  "  at  the 
epoch  of  the  French  Revolution,  this  immense  empire,  com- 
prehending nearly  half  of  Europe  and  Asia  within  its  domin- 
ions, inhabited  by  a  patient  and  indomitable  race,  ever  ready 
to  exchange  the  luxury  and  adventure  of  the  South  for  the 
hardships  and  monotony  of  the  North,  was  daily  becoming 
more  formidable  to  the  liberties  of  Europe.  .  .  .  The  Rus- 
sian infantry  had  then  long  been  celebrated  for  its  immovable 
firmness.  Tier  immense  population,  amounting  then  in  Europe 
alone  to  nearly  thirty-five  millions,  afforded  an  inexhaustible 
supply  of  men.  Her  soldiers,  inured  to  heat  and  cold  from 
their  infancy,  and  actuated  by  a  blind  devotion  to  their  Czar, 
united  the  steady  valor  of  the  English  to  the  impetuous  energy 
of  the  French  troops."  *  So,  also,  we  read  how  the  haughty 
aggressions  of  Bonaparte  "  went  to  excite  a  national  feeling 
from  the  banks  of  the  Borysthenes  to  the  wall  of  China,  and  to 
unite  against  him  the  wild  and  uncivilized  inhabitants  of  an 
extended  empire,  possessed  by  a  love  of  their  religion,  their 
government,  and  their  country,  and  having  a  character  of  stern 
devotion,  which  he  was  incapable  of  estimating."  f  But  the 
Russia  of  T709  had  no  such  forces  to  oppose  to  an  assailant. 
Her  whole  population  then  was  below  sixteen  millions ;  and, 
what  is  far  more  important,  this  population  had  neither  ac- 
quired military  spirit  nor  strong  nationality,  nor  was  it  united 
in  loyal  attachment  to  its  ruler. 

Peter  had  wisely  abolished  the  old  regular  troops  of  the 
empire,  the  Strelitzes ;  but  the  forces  which  he  had  raised  in 
their  stead  on  a  new  and  foreign  plan,  and  principally  officered 
with  foreigners,  had,  before  the  Swedish  invasion,  given  no 
proof  that  they  could  be  relied  on.  In  numerous  encounters 
with  the  Swedes,  Peter's  soldiery  had  run  like  sheep  before 
inferior  numbers.  Great  discontent,  also,  had  been  excited 
among  all  classes  of  the  community  by  the  arbitrary  changes 
which  their  great  emperor  introduced,  many  of  which  clashed 
with  the  most  cherished  national  prejudices  of  his  subjects.  A 
career  of  victory  and  prosperity  had  not  yet  raised  Peter  above 
the  reach  of  that  disaffection,  nor  had  superstitious  obedience 
to  the  Czar  yet  become  the  characteristic  of  the  Muscovite 
*  Alison.  t  Scott's  "  Life  of  Napoleon." 


288  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

mind.  The  victorious  occupation  of  Moscow  by  Charles  XII. 
would  have  quelled  the  Russian  nation  as  effectually,  as  had 
been  the  case  when  Baton  Khan  and  other  ancient  invaders 
captured  the  capital  of  primitive  Muscovy.  How  little  such  a 
triumph  could  effect  towards  subduing  modern  Russia,  the 
fate  of  Napoleon  demonstrated  at  once  and  forever. 

The  character  of  Charles  XII.  has  been  a  favorite  theme 
with  historians,  moralists,  philosophers,  and  poets.  But  it  is 
his  military  conduct  during-  the  campaign  in  Russia  that  alone 
requires  comment  here.  Napoleon,  in  the  Memoirs  dictated 
by  him  at  St.  Helena,  has  given  us  a  systematic  criticism  on 
that,  among  other  celebrated  campaigns,  his  own  Russian  cam- 
paign included.  He  labors  hard  to  prove  that  he  himself  ob- 
served all  the  true  principles  of  offensive  war;  and  probably 
his  censures  on  Charles'  generalship  were  rather  highly  col- 
ored, for  the  sake  of  making  his  own  military  skill  stand  out  in 
more  favorable  relief.  Yet,  after  making  all  allowances,  we 
must  admit  the  force  of  Napoleon's  strictures  on  Charles'  tac- 
tics, and  own  that  his  judgment,  though  severe,  is  correct,  when 
he  pronounces  that  the  Swedish  king,  unlike  his  great  pred- 
ecessor Gustavus,  knew  nothing  of  the  art  of  war,  and  was 
nothing  more  than  a  brave  and  intrepid  soldier.  Such,  how- 
ever, was  not  the  light  in  which  Charles  was  regarded  by  his 
contemporaries  at  the  commencement  of  his  Russian  expedi- 
tion. His  numerous  victories,  his  daring  and  resolute  spirit, 
combined  with  the  ancient  renown  of  the  Swedish  arms,  then 
filled  all  Europe  with  admiration  and  anxiety.  As  Johnson 
expresses  it,  his  name  was  then  one  at  which  the  world  grew 
pale.  Even  Louis  le  Grand  earnestly  solicited  his  assistance ; 
and  our  own  Marlborough,  then  in  the  full  career  of  his  vic- 
tories, was  specially  sent  by  the  English  court  to  the  camp  of 
Charles,  to  propitiate  the  hero  of  the  North  in  favor  of  the  cause 
of  the  allies,  and  to  prevent  the  Swedish  sword  from  being  flung 
into  the  scale  in  the  French  king's  favor.  But  Charles  at  that 
time  was  solely  bent  on  dethroning  the  sovereign  of  Russia,  as 
he  had  already  dethroned  the  sovereign  of  Poland,  and  all  Eu- 
rope fully  believed  that  he  would  entirely  crush  the  Czar,  and 
dictate  conditions  of  peace  in  the  Kremlin.*     Charles  himself 

'■*  Voltaire'  attests,  from  personal  inspection  of  the  letters  of  several 
public  ministers  to  their  respective  courts,  that  such  was  the  general 
expectation. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA.  289 

looked  on  success  as  a  matter  of  certainty,  and  the  romantic 
extravagance  of  his  views  was  continually  increasing.  "  One 
year,  he  thought,  would  suffice  for  the  conquest  of  Russia.  The 
court  of  Rome  was  next  to  feel  his  vengeance,  as  the  pope  had 
dared  to  oppose  the  concession  of  religious  liberty  to  the 
Silesian  Protestants.  No  enterprise  at  that  time  appeared  im- 
possible to  him.  He  had  even  despatched  several  officers  pri- 
vately into  Asia  and  Egypt,  to  take  plans  of  the  towns  and  ex- 
amine into  the  strength  and  resources  of  those  countries."! 

Napoleon  thus  epitomizes  the  earlier  operations  of  Charles' 
invasion  of  Russia : 

"  That  prince  set  out  from  his  camp  at  Aldstadt,  near 
Leipsic,  in  September,  1707,  at  the  head  of  45,000  men,  and 
traversed  Poland ;  20,000  men,  under  Count  Lewenhaupt,  dis- 
embarked at  Riga;  and  15,000  were  in  Finland.  He  was 
therefore  in  a  condition  to  have  brought  together  80,000  of  the 
best  troops  in  the  world.  He  left  10,000  men  at  Warsaw  to 
guard  King  Stanislaus,  and  in  January,  1708,  arrived  at 
GrodnO;  where  he  wintered.  In  June  he  crossed  the  forest 
of  Minsk  and  presented  himself  before  Borisov;  forced  the 
Russian  army,  which  occupied  the  left  bank  of  the  Beresina ; 
defeated  20,000  Russians  who  were  strongly  intrenched  behind 
marshes ;  passed  the  Borysthenes  at  Mohilov,  and  vanquished 
a  corps  of  16,000  Muscovites  near  Smolensko  on  the  22d  of 
September.  He  was  now  advanced  to  the  confines  of  Lithu- 
ania, and  was  about  to  enter  Russia  Proper ;  the  Czar,  alarmed 
at  his  approach,  made  him  proposals  of  peace.  Up  to  this 
time  all  his  movements  were  conformable  to  rule,  and  his 
communications  were  well  secured.  He  was  master  of  Po- 
land and  Riga,  and  only  ten  days'  march  distant  from  Moscow  ; 
and  it  is  probable  that  he  would  have  reached  that  capital,  had 
he  not  quitted  the  high  road  thither,  and  directed  his  steps 
towards  the  Ukraine,  in  order  to  form  a  junction  with  Mazeppa, 
who  brought  him  only  6,000  men.  By  this  movement,  his 
line  of  operations,  beginning  at  Sweden,  exposed  his  flank  to 
Russia  for  a  distance  of  four  hundred  leagues,  and  he  was 
unable  to  protect  it,  or  to  receive  either  re-enforcements  or 
assistance." 

Napoleon  severely  censures  this  neglect  of  one  of  the  great 
rules  of  war.     He  points  out  that  Charles  had  not  organized 
t  Crighton's  "  Scandinavia." 
19 


290  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

his  war,  like  Hannibal,  on  the  principle  of  relinquishing  al\ 
communications  with  home,  keeping  all  his  forces  concen- 
trated, and  creating  a  base  of  operations  in  the  conquered 
country.  Such  had  been  the  bold  system  of  the  Carthaginian 
general;  but  Charles  acted  on  no  such  principle,  inasmuch  as 
he  caused  Lewenhaupt,  one  of  his  generals  who  commanded 
a  considerable  detachment,  and  escorted  a  most  important 
convoy,  to  follow  him  at  a  distance  of  twelve  days'  march. 
By  this  dislocation  of  his  forces  he  exposed  Lewenhaupt  to 
be  overwhelmed  separately  by  the  full  force  of  the  enemy, 
and  deprived  the  troops  under  his  own  command  of  the  aid 
which  that  general's  men  and  stores  might  have  afforded  at  the 
very  crisis  of  the  campaign. 

The  Czar  had  collected  an  army  of  about  100,000  effective 
men ;  and  though  the  Swedes,  in  the  beginning  of  the  invasion, 
were  successful  in  every  encounter,  the  Russian  troops  were 
gradually  acquiring  discipline  ;  and  Peter  and  his  officers  were 
learning  generalship  from  their  victors,  as  the  Thebans  of  old 
learned  it  from  the  Spartans.  When  Lewenhaupt,  in  the  Oc- 
tober of  1708,  was  striving  to  join  Charles  in  the  Ukraine,  the 
Czar  suddenly  attacked  him  near  the  Borysthenes  with  an 
overwhelming  force  of  50,000  Russians.  Lewenhaupt  fought 
bravely  for  three  days,  and  succeeded  in  cutting  his  way 
through  the  enemy  with  about  4,000  of  his  men  to  where 
Charles  awaited  him  near  the  River  Desna ;  but  upwards  of 
8,000  Swedes  fell  in  these  battles ;  Lewenhaupt's  cannon  and 
ammunition  were  abandoned ;  and  the  whole  of  his  important 
convoy  of  provisions,  on  which  Charles  and  his  half-starved 
troops  were  relying,  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands.  Charles 
was  compelled  to  remain  in  the  Ukraine  during  the  winter ; 
but  in  the  spring  of  1709  he  moved  forward  towards  Moscow, 
and  invested  the  fortified  town  of  Pultowa,  on  the  River  Vors- 
kla,  a  place  where  the  Czar  had  stored  up  large  supplies  of 
provisions  and  military  stores,  and  which  commanded  the 
passes  leading  towards  Moscow.  The  possession  of  this  place 
would  have  given  Charles  the  means  of  supplying  all  the  wants 
of  his  suffering  army,  and  would  also  have  furnished  him  with 
a  secure  base  of  operations  for  his  advance  against  the  Mus- 
covite capital.  The  siege  was  therefore  hotly  pressed  by  the 
Swedes ;  the  garrison  resisted  obstinately ;  and  the  Czar, 
feeling  the  importance  of  saving  the  town,  advanced  in  June 


THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA.  291 

to  its  relief,  at  the  head  of  an  army  from  fifty  to  sixty  thou- 
sand strong. 

Both  sovereigns  now  prepared  for  the  general  action,  which 
each  saw  to  be  inevitable,  and  which  each  felt  would  be  de- 
cisive of  his  own  and  of  his  country's  destiny.  The  Czar,  by 
some  masterly  manoeuvres,  crossed  the  Vorskla,  and  posted 
his  army  on  the  same  side  of  that  river  with  the  besiegers,  but 
a  little  higher  up.  The  Vorskla  falls  into  the  Borysthenes 
about  fifteen  leagues  below  Pultowa,  and  the  Czar  arranged 
his  forces  in  two  lines,  stretching  from  one  river  towards  the 
other,  so  that  if  the  Swedes  attacked  him  and  were  repulsed, 
they  would  be  driven  backward  into  the  acute  angle  formed 
by  the  two  streams  at  their  junction.  He  fortified  these  lines 
with  several  redoubts,  lined  with  heavy  artillery;  and  his 
troops,  both  horse  and  foot,  were  in  the  best  possible  condition, 
and  amply  provided  with  stores  and  ammunition.  Charles' 
forces  were  about  24,000  strong.  But  not  more  than  half  of 
these  were  Swedes:  so  much  had  battle,  famine,  fatigue,  and 
the  deadly  frosts  of  Russia  thinned  the  gallant  bands  which 
the  Swedish  king  and  Lewenhaupt  had  led  to  the  Ukraine. 
The  other  12,000  men,  under  Charles,  were  Cossacks  and 
Wallachians,  who  had  joined  him  in  the  country.  On  hear- 
ing that  the  Czar  was  about  to  attack  him,  he  deemed  that 
his  dignity  required  that  he  himself  should  be  the  assailant; 
and,  leading  his  army  out  of  their  intrenched  lines  before  the 
town,  he  advanced  with  them  against  the  Russian  redoubts. 

He  had  been  severely  wounded  in  the  foot  in  a  skirmish  a 
few  days  before,  and  was  borne  in  a  litter  along  the  ranks  into 
the  thick  of  the  fight.  Notwithstanding  the  fearful  disparity 
of  numbers  and  disadvantage  of  position,  the  Swedes  never 
showed  their  ancient  valor  more  nobly  than  on  that  dreadful 
day.  Nor  do  their  Cossack  and  Wallachian  allies  seem  to 
have  been  unworthy  of  fighting  side  by  side  with  Charles' 
veterans.  Two  of  the  Russian  redoubts  were  actually  entered, 
and  the  Swedish  infantry  began  to  raise  the  cry  of  victory. 
But,  on  the  other  side,  neither  general  nor  soldiers  flinched 
in  their  duty.  The  Russian  cannonade  and  musketry  were 
kept  up ;  fresh  masses  of  defenders  were  poured  into  the  for- 
tifications, and  at  length  the  exhausted  remnants  of  the  Swed- 
ish columns  recoiled  from  the  blood-stained  redoubts.  Then 
the  Czar  led  the  infantry  and  cavalry  of  his  first  line  outside 


2^2  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

the  works,  drew  them  up  steadily  and  skilfully,  and  the  action 
was  renewed  along  the  whole  fronts  of  the  two  armies  on  the 
open  ground.  Each  sovereign  exposed  his  life  freely  in  the 
world-winning  battle,  and  on  each  side  the  troops  fought  ob- 
stinately and  eagerly  under  their  ruler's  eyes.  It  was  not  till 
two  hours  from  the  commencement  of  the  action  that,  over- 
powered by  numbers,  the  hitherto  invincible  Swedes  gave 
way.  All  was  then  hopeless  disorder  and  irreparable  rout. 
Driven  downward  to  where  the  rivers  join,  the  fugitive  Swedes 
surrendered  to  their  victorious  pursuers  or  perished  in  the 
waters  of  the  Borysthenes.  Only  a  few  hundreds  swam  that 
river  with  their  king  and  the  Cossack  Mazeppa,  and  escaped 
into  the  Turkish  territory.  Nearly  10,000  lay  killed  and 
wounded  in  the  redoubts  and  on  the  field  of  battle. 

In  the  joy  of  his  heart  the  Czar  exclaimed,  when  the  strife 
was  over,  "  That  the  son  of  the  morning  had  fallen  from  hea- 
ven, and  that  the  foundation  of  St.  Petersburg  at  length  stood 
firm."  Even  on  that  battle-field,  near  the  Ukraine,  the  Rus- 
sian emperor's  first  thoughts  were  of  conquests  and  ag- 
grandizement on  the  Baltic.  The  peace  of  Nystadt,  which 
transferred  the  fairest  provinces  of  Sweden  to  Russia,  ratified 
the  judgment  of  battle  which  was  pronounced  at  Pultowa. 
Attacks  on  Turkey  and  Persia  by  Russia  commenced  almost 
directly  after  that  victory.  And  though  the  Czar  failed  in  his 
first  attempts  against  the  sultan,  the  successors  of  Peter  have, 
one  and  all,  carried  on  a  uniformly  aggressive  and  uniformly 
successive  system  of  policy  against  Turkey,  and  against  every 
other  state,  Asiatic  as  well  as  European,  which  has  had  the 
misfortune  of  having  Russia  for  a  neighbor. 

Orators  and  authors,  who  have  discussed  the  progress  of 
Russia,  have  often  alluded  to  the  similitude  between  the  mod- 
ern extension  of  the  Muscovite  empire  and  the  extension  of 
the  Roman  dominions  in  ancient  times.  But  attention  has 
scarcely  been  drawn  to  the  closeness  of  the  parallel  between 
conquering  Russia  and  conquering  Rome,  not  only  in  the  ex- 
tent of  conquests,  but  in  the  means  of  efTecting  conquest. 
The  history  of  Rome  during  the  century  and  a  half  which  fol- 
lowed the  close  of  the  second  Punic  war,  and  during  which 
her  largest  acquisitions  of  territory  were  made,  should  be 
minutely  compared  with  the  history  of  Russia  for  the  last  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years.     The  main  points  of  similitude  can 


THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA.  293 

only  be  indicated  in  these  pages ;  but  they  deserve  the  fullest 
consideration.  Above  all,  the  sixth  chapter  of  Montesquieu's 
great  treatise  on  Rome,  "  De  la  conduite  que  les  Romains  tinrent 
pour  soumettre  Ics  peuples,"  should  be  carefully  studied  by 
every  one  who  watches  the  career  and  policy  of  Russia.  The 
classic  scholar  will  remember  the  statecraft  of  the  Roman 
senate,  which  took  care  in  every  foreign  war  to  appear  in  the 
character  of  a  Protector.  Thus  Rome  protected  the  /litolians 
and  the  Greek  cities  against  Macedon ;  she  protected  Bithynia 
and  other  small  Asiatic  states  against  the  Syrian  kings ;  she 
protected  Numidia  against  Carthage ;  and  in  numerous  other 
instances  assumed  the  same  specious  character.  But  "  woe 
to  the  people  whose  liberty  depends  on  the  continued  for- 
bearance of  an  overmighty  protector."  *  Every  state  which 
Rome  protected  was  ultimately  subjugated  and  absorbed  by 
her.  And  Russia  has  been  the  protector  of  Poland — the  pro- 
tector of  the  Crimea — the  protector  of  Courland — the  pro- 
tector of  Georgia,  Immeritia,  Mingrelia,  the  Tcherkessian  and 
Caucasian  tribes,  etc.  She  has  first  protected,  and  then  appro- 
priated, them  all.  She  protects  Moldavia  and  Wallachia.  A 
few  years  ago  she  became  the  protector  of  Turkey  from  Me- 
hemet  Ali ;  and  since  the  summer  of  1849  she  has  made  her- 
self the  protector  of  Austria. 

When  the  partisans  of  Russia  speak  of  the  disinterestedness 
with  which  she  withdrew  her  protecting  troops  from  Con- 
stantinople and  from  Hungary,  let  us  here  also  mark  the 
ominous  exactness  of  the  parallel  between  her  and  Rome. 
While  the  ancient  world  yet  contained  a  number  of  inde- 
pendent states,  which  might  have  made  a  formidable  league 
against  Rome  if  she  had  alarmed  them  by  openly  avowing 
her  ambitious  schemes,  Rome's  favorite  policy  was  seeming 
disinterestedness  and  moderation.  After  her  first  war  against 
Philip,  after  that  against  Antiochus,  and  many  others,  vic- 
torious Rome  promptly  withdrew  her  troops  from  the  terri- 
tories which  they  occupied.  She  affected  to  employ  her  arms 
only  for  the  good  of  others.  But,  when  the  favorable  moment 
came,  she  always  found  a  pretext  for  marching  her  legions 
back  into  each  coveted  district,  and  making  it  a  Roman  prov- 
ince. Fear,  not  moderation,  is  the  only  effective  check  on 
the  ambition  of  such  powers  as  ancient  Rome  and  modern 
♦  Malkin's  "  History  of  Greece." 


294  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Russia.  The  amount  of  that  fear  depends  on  the  amount  of 
timely  vigilance  and  energy  which  other  states  choose  to  em- 
ploy against  the  common  enemy  of  their  freedom  and  national 
independence. 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Pultowa, 
A.D.  1709,  AND  the  Defeat  of  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga, 
A.D.  1777. 

A.D.  1713.  Treaty  of  Utrecht.  Philip  is  left  b}'  it  in  pos- 
session of  the  throne  of  Spain.  But  Naples,  Milan,  the  Spanish 
territories  on  the  Tuscan  coast,  the  Spanish  Netherlands,  and 
some  parts  of  the  French  Netherlands  are  given  to  Austria. 
France  cedes  to  England  Hudson's  Bay  and  Straits,  the  island 
of  St.  Christopher,  Nova  Scotia,  and  Newfoundland  in  Amer- 
ica. Spain  cedes  to  England,  Gibraltar  and  Minorca,  which 
the  English  had  taken  during  the  war.  The  King  of  Prussia 
and  the  Duke  of  Savoy  both  obtain  considerable  additions  of 
territory  to  their  dominions. 

1715.  Death  of  Queen  Anne.  The  house  of  Hanover  be- 
gins to  reign  in  England.  A  rebellion  in  favor  of  the  Stuarts 
is  put  down.    Death  of  Louis  XIV. 

1718.  Charles  XH.  killed  at  the  siege  of  Frederickshall. 

1725.  Death  of  Peter  the  Great  of  Russia. 

1740.  Frederick  H.  King  of  Prussia.  He  attacks  the  Aus- 
trian dominions,  and  conquers  Silesia. 

1742.  War  between  France  and  England. 

1743.  Victory  of  the  English  at  Dettingen. 

1745.  Victory  of  the  French  at  Fontenoy.  Rebellion  in 
Scotland  in  favor  of  the  house  of  Stuart;  finally  quelled  by 
the  battle  of  Culloden  in  the  next  year. 

1748.  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle. 

1756 — 1763.  The  Seven  Years'  War,  during  which  Prussia 
makes  a  heroic  resistance  against  the  armies  of  Austria,  Rus- 
sia, and  France.  England,  under  the  administration  of  the 
elder  Pitt  (afterward  Lord  Chatham),  takes  a  glorious  part  in 
the  war  in  opposition  to  France  and  Spain.  Wolfe  wins  the 
battle  of  Quebec,  and  the  English  conquer  Canada,   Cape 


THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA.  295 

Breton,  and  St.  John.    Give  begins  his  career  of  conquest  in 
India.    Cuba  is  taken  by  the  EngHsh  from  Spain. 

1763.  Treaty  of  Paris ;  which  leaves  the  power  of  Prussia 
increased,  and  its  miHtary  reputation  greatly  exalted. 

"  France,  by  the  treaty  of  Paris,  ceded  to  England  Canada 
and  the  island  of  Cape  Breton,  with  the  islands  and  coasts  of 
the  gulf  and  river  of  St.  Lawrence.  The  boundaries  between 
the  two  nations  in  North  America  were  fixed  by  a  line  drawn 
along  the  middle  of  the  Mississippi,  from  its  source  to  its 
mouth.  All  on  the  left  or  eastern  bank  of  that  river  was  given 
up  to  England,  except  the  city  of  New  Orleans,  which  was 
reserved  to  France ;  as  was  also  the  liberty  of  the  fisheries  on 
a  part  of  the  coasts  of  Newfoundland  and  the  Gulf  of  St.  Law- 
rence. The  islands  of  St.  Peter  and  Miquelon  were  given 
them  as  a  shelter  for  their  fishermen,  but  without  permission 
to  raise  fortifications.  The  islands  of  Martinico,  Guadaloupe, 
Mariegalante,  Desirada,  and  St.  Lucia  were  surrendered  to 
France ;  while  Grenada,  the  Grenadines,  St.  Vincent,  Domin- 
ica, and  Tobago  were  ceded  to  England.  This  latter  power 
retained  her  conquests  on  the  Senegal,  and  restored  to  France 
the  island  of  Gorea,  on  the  coast  of  Africa.  France  was  put 
in  possession  of  the  forts  and  factories  which  belonged  to  her 
in  the  East  Indies,  on  the  coasts  of  Coromandel,  Orissa,  Mala- 
bar, and  Bengal,  under  the  restriction  of  keeping  up  no  mili- 
tary force  in  Bengal. 

"  In  Europe,  France  restored  all  the  conquests  she  had  made 
in  Germany,  as  also  the  island  of  Minorca.  England  gave  up 
to  her  Belleisle,  on  the  coast  of  Brittany ;  while  Dunkirk  was 
kept  in  the  same  condition  as  had  been  determined  by  the 
peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle.  The  island  of  Cuba,  with  the 
Havana,  were  restored  to  the  King  of  Spain,  who,  on  his  part, 
ceded  to  England  Florida,  with  Port  Augustine  and  the  Bay 
of  Pensacola.  The  King  of  Portugal  was  restored  to  the  same 
state  in  which  he  had  been  before  the  war.  The  colony  of  St. 
Sacrament  in  America,  which  the  Spaniards  had  conquered, 
was  given  back  to  him. 

"  The  peace  of  Paris,  of  which  we  have  just  now  spoken, 
was  the  era  of  England's  greatest  prosperity.  Her  commerce 
and  navigation  extended  over  all  parts  of  the  globe,  and  were 
supported  by  a  naval  force,  so  much  the  more  imposing,  as 


296 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


it  was  no  longer  counterbalanced  by  the  maritime  power  of 
France,  which  had  been  almost  annihilated  in  the  preceding 
war.  The  immense  territories  which  that  peace  had  secured 
her,  both  in  Africa  and  America,  opened  up  new  channels  for 
her  industry;  and  what  deserves  specially  to  be  remarked  is, 
that  she  acquired  at  the  same  time  vast  and  important  posses- 
sions in  the  East  Indies."  * 

*  Koch's  "  Revolutions  of  Europe." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

VICTORY  OF  THE  AMERICANS  OVER  BURGOYNE 

AT  SARATOGA,  A.D.   1777. 

"Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way; 
The  first  four  acts  already  past, 
A  fifth  shall  close  the  drama  with  the  day: 
Time's  noblest  offspring  is  its  last." 

— Bishop  Berkeley^ 

"  Even  of  those  great  conflicts  in  which  hundreds  of  thousands  have 
been  engaged  and  tens  of  thousands  have  fallen,  none  has  been  more 
fruitful  of  results  than  this  surrender  of  thirty-five  hundred  fighting 
men  at  Saratoga.  It  not  merely  changed  the  relations  of  England  and 
the  feelings  of  Europe  towards  these  insurgent  colonies,  but  it  has  modi- 
fied, for  all  time  to  come,  the  connection  between  every  colony  and 
every  parent  state." — Lord  Mahon. 

OF  the  four  great  powers  that  now  principally  rule  the 
political  destinies  of  the  world,  France  and  England 
are  the  only  two  whose  influence  can  be  dated  back 
beyond  the  last  century  and  a  half.  The  third  great  power, 
Russia,  was  a  feeble  mass  of  barbarism  before  the  epoch  of 
Peter  the  Great;  and  the  very  existence  of  the  fourth  great 
power  as  an  independent  nation  commenced  within  the  mem- 
ory of  living  men.  By  the  fourth  great  power  of  the  world  I 
mean  the  mighty  commonwealth  of  the  Western  Continent 
which  now  commands  the  admiration  of  mankind.  That 
homage  is  sometimes  reluctantly  given,  and  is  sometimes  ac- 
companied with  suspicion  and  ill-will.  But  none  can  refuse 
it.  AH  the  physical  essentials  for  national  strength  are  unde- 
niably to  be  found  in  the  geographical  position  and  amplitude 
of  territory  which  the  United  States  possess ;  in  their  almost 
inexhaustible  tracts  of  fertile  but  hitherto  untouched  soil,  in 
their  stately  forests,  in  their  mountain-chains  and  their  rivers, 
their  beds  of  coal  and  stores  of  metallic  wealth,  in  their  ex- 
tensive sea-board  along  the  waters  of  two  oceans,  and  in 
their  already  numerous  and  rapidly  increasing  population. 
And  when  we  examine  the  character  of  this  population,  no 

397 


298  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

one  can  look  on  the  fearless  energy,  the  sturdy  determination, 
the  aptitude  for  local  self-government,  the  versatile  alacrity, 
and  the  unresting  spirit  of  enterprise  which  characterize  the 
Anglo-Americans,  without  feeling  that  here  he  beholds  the 
true  elements  of  progressive  might. 

Three-quarters  of  a  century  have  not  yet  passed  since  the 
United  States  ceased  to  be  mere  dependencies  of  England. 
And  even  if  we  date  their  origin  from  the  period  when  the 
first  permanent  European  settlements  out  of  which  they  grew 
were  made  on  the  western  coast  of  the  North  Atlantic,  the 
increase  of  their  strength  is  unparalleled  either  in  rapidity 
or  extent. 

The  ancient  Roman  boasted,  with  reason,  of  the  growth  of 
Rome  from  humble  beginnings  to  the  greatest  magnitude 
which  the  world  had  then  ever  witnessed.  But  the  citizen  of 
the  United  States  is  still  more  justly  entitled  to  claim  this 
praise.  In  two  centuries  and  a  half  his  country  has  acquired 
ampler  dominion  than  the  Roman  gained  in  ten.  And  even 
if  we  credit  the  legend  of  the  band  of  shepherds  and  outlaws 
with  which  Romulus  is  said  to  have  colonized  the  Seven  Hills, 
we  find  not  there  so  small  a  germ  of  future  greatness  as  we 
find  in  the  group  of  a  hundred  and  five  ill-chosen  and  disunited 
emigrants  who  founded  Jamestown  in  1607,  or  in  the  scanty 
band  of  Pilgrim  Fathers  who,  a  few  years  later,  moored  their 
bark  on  the  wild  and  rock-bound  coast  of  the  wilderness  that 
was  to  become  New  England.  The  power  of  the  United  States 
is  emphatically  the  "  Imperium  quo  neque  ab  exordio  ullum 
fere  minus,  neque  incrementis  toto  orbe  amplius  humana  po- 
test memoria  recordari."  * 

Nothing  is  more  calculated  to  impress  the  mind  with  a 
sense  of  the  rapidity  with  which  the  resources  of  the  American 
republic  advance,  than  the  difficulty  which  the  historical  in- 
quirer finds  in  ascertaining  their  precise  amount.  If  he  con- 
sults the  most  recent  works,  and  those  written  by  the  ablest 
investigators  of  the  subject,  he  finds  in  them  admiring  com- 
ments on  the  change  which  the  last  few  years,  before  those 
books  were  written,  had  made ;  but  when  he  turns  to  apply 
the  estimates  in  those  books  to  the  present  moment,  he  finds 
them  wholly  inadequate.  Before  a  book  on  the  subject  of  the 
United  States  has  lost  its  novelty,  those  states  have  outgrown 
♦  Eutropius,  lib.  i.,  exordium. 


BATTLE  OF   SARATOGA  299 

the  descriptions  which  it  contains.  The  celebrated  work  of 
the  French  statesman,  De  Tocqueville,  appeared  about  fifteen 
years  ago.  In  the  passage  which  I  am  about  to  quote,  it  will 
be  seen  that  he  predicts  the  constant  increase  of  the  Anglo- 
American  power,  but  he  looks  on  the  Rocky  Mountains  as 
their  extreme  western  limit  for  many  years  to  come.  He  had 
evidently  no  expectation  of  himself  seeing  that  power  domi- 
nant along  the  Pacific  as  well  as  along  the  Atlantic  coast 
He  says :  * 

"  The  distance  from  Lake  Superior  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
extends  from  the  47th  to  the  30th  degree  of  latitude,  a  dis- 
tance 3f  more  than  1,200  miles  as  the  bird  flies.  The  frontier 
of  the  United  States  winds  along  the  whole  of  this  immense 
line,  sometimes  falling  within  its  limits,  but  more  frequently 
extending  far  beyond  it  into  the  waste.  It  has  been  calcu- 
lated that  the  whites  advance  every  year  a  mean  distance  of 
seventeen  miles  along  this  vast  boundary.  Obstacles,  such 
as  an  unproductive  district,  a  lake,  or  an  Indian  nation  un- 
expectedly encountered,  are  sometimes  met  with.  The  ad- 
'^ancing  column  then  halts  for  a  while;  its  two  extremities 
iall  back  upon  themselves,  and  as  soon  as  they  are  reunited 
they  proceed  onward.  This  gradual  and  continuous  progress 
of  the  European  race  towards  the  Rocky  Mountains  has  the 
solemnity  of  a  providential  event ;  it  is  like  a  deluge  of  men 
rising  unabatedly,  and  daily  driven  onward  by  the  hand  of  God. 

"  Within  this  first  line  of  conquering  settlers  towns  are  built 
and  vast  states  founded.  In  1790  there  were  only  a  few  thou- 
sand pioneers  sprinkled  along  the  valleys  of  the  Mississippi ; 
and  at  the  present  day  these  valleys  contain  as  many  inhabi- 
tants as  were  to  be  found  in  the  whole  Union  in  1790.  Their 
population  amounts  to  nearly  four  millions.  The  City  of 
Washington  was  founded  in  1800,  in  the  very  centre  of  the 
Union ;  but  such  are  the  changes  which  has  taken  place  that 
it  now  stands  at  one  of  the  extremities ;  and  the  delegates  of 
the  most  remote  Western  States  are  already  obliged  to  per- 
form a  journey  as  long  as  that  from  Vienna  to  Paris. 
^It  must  not,  then,  be  imagined  that  the  impulse  of  the 

*  The  original  French  of  these  passages  will  be  found  in  the  chapter 
on  "  Qnelles  sont  les  chances  de  duree  de  I'Union  Americaine — Quels 
dangers  la  menacent,"  in  the  third  volume  of  the  first  part  of  De  Tocque- 
ville, and  in  the  conclusion  of  the  first  part.  They  are  (with  others) 
iollected  and  translated  by  Mr.  Alison,  in  his  "  Essays,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  374. 


3CO  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

British  race  in  the  New  World  can  be  arrested.  The  dismem- 
berment of  the  Union,  and  the  hostihties  which  might  ensue, 
the  aboHtion  of  repubhcan  institutions,  and  the  tyrannical 
government  which  might  succeed  it,  may  retard  this  impulse, 
but  they  cannot  prevent  it  from  ultimately  fulfilling  the  des- 
tinies to  which  that  race  is  reserved.  No  power  upon  earth 
can  close  upon  the  emigrants  that  fertile  wilderness,  which 
offers  resources  to  all  industry  and  a  refuge  from  all  want. 
Future  events,  of  whatever  nature  they  may  be,  will  not  de- 
prive the  Americans  of  their  climate  or  of  their  inland  seas, 
of  their  great  rivers  or  of  their  exuberant  soil.  Nor  will  bad 
news,  revolutions,  and  anarchy  be  able  to  obliterate  that  love 
of  prosperity  and  that  spirit  of  enterprise  which  seem  to  be 
the  distinctive  characteristics  of  their  race,  or  to  extinguish 
that  knowledge  which  guides  them  on  their  way. 

"  Thus,  in  the  midst  of  the  uncertain  future,  one  event  at 
least  is  sure — at  a  period  which  may  be  said  to  be  near  (for 
we  are  speaking  of  the  life  of  a  nation),  the  Anglo-Americans 
will  alone  cover  the  immense  space  contained  between  the 
polar  regions  and  the  tropics,  extending  from  the  coast  of 
the  Atlantic  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  Ocean ;  the  territory 
which  will  probably  be  occupied  by  the  Anglo-Americans  at 
some  future  time  may  be  computed  to  equal  three-quarters  of 
Europe  in  extent.  The  climate  of  the  Union  is  upon  the  whole 
preferable  to  that  of  Europe,  and  its  natural  advantages  are 
not  less  great;  it  is  therefore  evident  that  its  population  will 
at  some  future  time  be  proportionate  to  our  own.  Europe, 
divided  as  it  is  between  so  many  different  nations,  and  torn 
as  it  has  been  by  incessant  wars  and  the  barbarous  manners  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  has,  notwithstanding,  attained  a  population  of 
410  inhabitants  to  the  square  league.  What  cause  can  pre- 
vent the  United  States  from  having  as  numerous  a  population 
in  time? 

"  The  time  will  therefore  come  when  one  hundred  and  fifty 
millions  of  men  will  be  living  in  North  America,  equal  in  con- 
dition, the  progeny  of  one  race,  owing  their  origin  to  the  same 
cause,  and  preserving  the  same  civilization,  the  same  language, 
the  same  religion,  the  same  habits,  the  same  manners,  and 
imbued  with  the  same  opinions,  propagated  under  the  same 
forms.  The  rest  is  uncertain,  but  this  is  certain ;  and  it  is  a 
fact  new  to  the  world,  a  fact  fraught  with  such  portentous 


BATTLE   OF   SARATOGA 


301 


consequences  as  to  bafifle  the  efforts  even  of  the  imagina- 
tion." 

Let  ns  turn  from  the  French  statesman  writing  in  1835,  to 
an  EngHsh  statesman  who  is  justly  regarded  as  the  highest 
authority  in  all  statistical  subjects,  and  who  described  the 
United  States  only  five  years  ago.    Macgregor*  tells  us : 

"  The  states  which,  on  the  ratification  of  independence, 
formed  the  American  Republican  Union,  were  thirteen,  viz. : 

"  Massachusetts,  New  Hampshire,  Connecticut,  Rhode 
Island,  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Delaware,  Maryland,  Penn- 
sylvania, Virgmia,  North  Carolina,  South  Carolina,  and 
Georgia. 

"  The  foregoing  thirteen  states  (the  whole  inhabited  terri- 
tory of  zvhich,  ivith  the  exception  of  a  few  small  settlements, 
was  confined  to  the  region  extending  between  the  Alleghany 
Mountains  and  the  Atlantic)  were  those  which  existed  at  the 
period  when  they  became  an  acknowledged  separate  and  in- 
dependent federal  sovereign  power.  The  thirteen  stripes  of 
the  standard  or  flag  of  the  United  States  continue  to  repre- 
sent the  original  number.  The  stars  have  multiplied  to  twen- 
ty-six,! according  as  the  number  of  states  have  increased. 

"  The  territory  of  the  thirteen  original  states  of  the  Union, 
including  Maine  and  Vermont,  comprehended  a  superficies  of 
371,124  English  square  miles  ;  that  of  the  whole  United  King- 
dom of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  120,354;  that  of  France, 
including  Corsica,  214,910;  that  of  the  Austrian  empire,  in- 
cluding Hungary  and  all  the  Imperial  states,  257,540  English 
square  miles. 

"  The  present  superficies  of  the  twenty-six  constitutional 
states  of  the  Anglo-American  Union,  and  the  District  of  Co- 
lumbia, and  territories  of  Florida,  include  1,029,025  square 
miles ;  to  which,  if  we  add  the  Northwest  or  Wisconsin  Ter- 
ritory, east  of  the  Mississippi,  and  bound  by  Lake  Superior  on 
the  north  and  Michigan  on  the  east,  and  occupying  at  least 
100,000  square  miles,  and  then  add  the  great  western  region, 
not  yet  well-defined  territories,  but  at  the  most  limited  calcula- 
tion comprehending  700,000  square  miles,  the  whole  unbroken 
in  its  vast  length  and  breadth  by  foreign  nations,  comprehends 
a  portion  of  the  earth's  surface  equal  to  1,729,025  English, 
or  1,296,770  geographical,  square  miles." 

♦Macgregor's  "Commercial  Statistics,"  vol.iii.,  p.  13, 
t  Fresh  stars  have  dawned  since  this  was  written. 


302 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


We  may  add  that  the  population  of  the  states  when  they 
declared  their  independence  was  about  two  millions  and  a  half ; 
it  is  now  twenty-three  millions. 

I  have  quoted  Macgregor,  not  only  on  account  of  the  clear 
and  full  view  which  he  gives  of  the  progress  of  America  to 
the  date  when  he  wrote,  but  because  his  description  may  be 
contrasted  with  what  the  United  States  have  become  even 
since  his  book  appeared.  Only  three  years  after  the  time  when 
Macgregor  thus  wrote,  the  American  president  truly  stated: 

"  Within  less  than  four  years  the  annexation  of  Texas  to 
the  Union  has  been  consummated ;  all  conflicting  title  to  the 
Oregon  Territory,  south  of  the  forty-ninth  degree  of  north 
latitude,  adjusted;  and  New  Mexico  and  Upper  California 
have  been  acquired  by  treaty.  The  area  of  these  several  ter- 
ritories contains  1,193,061  square  miles,  or  763,559,040  acres; 
while  the  area  of  the  remaining  twenty-nine  states,  and  the 
territory  not  yet  organized  into  states  east  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, contains  2,059,513  square  miles,  or  1,318,126,058  acres. 
These  estimates  show  that  the  territories  recently  acquired, 
and  over  which  our  exclusive  jurisdiction  and  dominion  have 
been  extended,  constitute  a  country  more  than  half  as  large 
as  all  that  which  was  held  by  the  United  States  before  their 
acquisition.  If  Oregon  be  excluded  from  the  estimate,  there 
will  still  remain  within  the  limits  of  Texas,  New  Mexico,  and 
California  851,598  square  miles,  or  545,012,720  acres,  being 
an  addition  equal  to  more  than  one-third  of  all  the  territory 
owned  by  the  United  States  before  their  acquisition,  and,  in- 
cluding Oregon,  nearly  as  great  an  extent  of  territory  as  the 
whole  of  Europe,  Russia  only  excepted.  The  Mississippi,  so 
lately  the  frontier  of  our  country,  is  nozv  only  its  centre.  With 
the  addition  of  the  late  acquisitions,  the  United  States  are  now 
estimated  to  be  nearly  as  large  as  the  whole  of  Europe.  The 
extent  of  the  sea-coast  of  Texas  on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  is  up- 
wards of  400  miles  ;  of  the  coast  of  Upper  California,  on  the  Pa- 
cific, of  970  miles,  and  of  Oregon,  including  the  Straits  of  Fuca, 
of  650  miles ;  making  the  whole  extent  of  sea-coast  on  the  Pacific 
1,620  miles,  and  the  whole  extent  on  both  the  Pacific  and  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico  2,020  miles.  The  length  of  the  coast  on  the 
Atlantic,  from  the  northern  limits  of  the  United  States,  round 
the  Capes  of  Florida  to  the  Sabine  on  the  eastern  boundary 
of  Texas,  is  estimated  to  be  3,100  miles,  so  that  the  addition 


BATTLE   OF   SARATOGA  303 

of  sea-coast,  including  Oregon,  is  very  nearly  two-thirds  as 
great  as  all  we  possessed  before;  and,  excluding  Oregon,  is 
an  addition  of  1,370  miles,  being  nearly  equal  to  one-half  of 
the  extent  of  coast  which  we  possessed  before  these  acquisi- 
tions. We  have  now  three  great  maritime  fronts — on  the  At- 
lantic, the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  the  Pacific — making,  in  the 
whole,  an  extent  of  sea-coast  exceeding  5,000  miles.  This  is 
the  extent  of  the  sea-coast  of  the  United  States,  not  including 
bays,  sounds,  and  small  irregularities  of  the  main  shore  and 
of  the  sea  islands.  If  these  be  included,  the  length  of  the 
shore-line  of  coast,  as  estimated  by  the  superintendent  of  the 
Coast  Survey  in  his  report,  would  be  33,063  miles." 

The  importance  of  the  power  of  the  United  States  being 
then  firmly  planted  along  the  Pacific  applies  not  only  to  the 
New  World,  but  to  the  Old.  Opposite  to  San  Francisco,  on 
the  coast  of  that  ocean,  lie  the  wealthy  but  decrepit  empires 
of  China  and  Japan.  Numerous  groups  of  islets  stud  the 
larger  part  of  the  intervening  sea,  and  form  convenient  step- 
ping-stones for  the  progress  of  commerce  or  ambition.  The 
intercourse  of  traffic  between  these  ancient  Asiatic  monarchies 
and  the  young  Anglo-American  republic  must  be  rapid  and 
extensive.  Any  attempt  of  the  Chinese  or  Japanese  rulers  to 
check  it  will  only  accelerate  an  armed  collision.  The  Ameri- 
can will  either  buy  or  force  his  way.  Between  such  populations 
as  that  of  China  and  Japan  on  the  one  side,  and  that  of  the 
United  States  on  the  other — the  former  haughty,  formal,  and 
insolent ;  the  latter  bold,  intrusive,  and  unscrupulous — causes 
of  quarrel  must  sooner  or  later  arise.  The  results  of  such  a 
quarrel  cannot  be  doubted.  America  will  scarcely  imitate  the 
forbearance  shown  by  England  at  the  end  of  our  late  war  with 
the  Celestial  Empire;  and  the  conquests  of  China  and  Japan 
by  the  fleets  and  armies  of  the  United  States  are  events  which 
many  now  living  are  likely  to  witness.  Compared  with  the 
magnitude  of  such  changes  in  the  dominion  of  the  Old  World, 
the  certain  ascendency  of  the  Anglo-Americans  over  Central 
and  Southern  America  seems  a  matter  of  secondary  impor- 
tance. Well  may  we  repeat  De  Tocqueville's  words,  that  the 
growing  power  of  this  commonwealth  is  "  un  fait  entierement 
nouveau  dans  le  monde,  et  dont  I'imagination  elle-meme  ne 
saurait  saisir  la  portee." 

An  Englishman  may  look,  and  ought  to  look,  on  the  grow- 


304  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

ing  grandeur  of  the  Americans  with  no  small  degree  of  gen- 
erous sympathy  and  satisfaction.  They,  like  ourselves,  are 
members  of  the  great  Anglo-Saxon  nation,  "  whose  race  and 
language  are  now  overrunning  the  world  from  one  end  of  it 
to  the  other."  *  And  whatever  differences  of  form  of  govern- 
ment may  exist  between  us  and  them — whatever  reminis- 
cences of  the  days  when,  though  brethren,  we  strove  together, 
may  rankle  in  the  minds  of  us,  the  defeated  party,  we  should 
cherish  the  bonds  of  common  nationality  that  still  exist  be- 
tween us.  We  should  remember,  as  the  Athenians  remem- 
bered of  the  Spartans  at  a  season  of  jealousy  and  temptation, 
that  our  race  is  one,  being  of  the  same  blood,  speaking  the 
same  language,  having  an  essential  resemblance  in  our  insti- 
tutions and  usages,  and  worshipping  in  the  temples  of  the 
same  God.f  All  this  may  and  should  be  borne  in  mind.  And 
yet  an  Englishman  can  hardly  watch  the  progress  of  America 
without  the  regretful  thought  that  America  once  was  English, 
and  that,  but  for  the  folly  of  our  rulers,  she  might  be  English 
still.  It  is  true  that  the  commerce  between  the  two  countries 
has  largely  and  beneficially  increased,  but  this  is  no  proof  that 
the  increase  would  not  have  been  still  greater  had  the  states 
remained  integral  portions  of  the  same  great  empire.  By  giv- 
ing a  fair  and  just  participation  in  political  rights,  these,  "  the 
fairest  possessions  "  of  the  British  crown,  might  have  been 
preserved  to  it.  "  This  ancient  and  most  noble  monarchy  "  J 
would  not  have  been  dismembered ;  nor  should  we  see  that 
which  ought  to  be  the  right  arm  of  our  strength,  now  menac- 
ing us  in  every  political  crisis  as  the  most  formidable  rival  of 
our  commercial  and  maritime  ascendency. 

The  war  which  rent  away  the  North  American  colonies  from 
England  is,  of  all  subjects  in  history,  the  most  painful  for  an 
Englishman  to  dwell  on.  It  was  commenced  and  carried  on 
by  the  British  ministry  in  iniquity  and  folly,  and  it  was  con- 
cluded in  disaster  and  shame.  But  the  contemplation  of  it 
cannot  be  evaded  by  the  historian,  however  much  it  may  be 
abhorred.  Nor  can  any  military  event  be  said  to  have  exer- 
cised more  important  influence  on  the  future  fortunes  of  man- 
kind than  the  complete  defeat  of  Burgoyne's  expedition  in 

*  Arnold. 

f  Ebv  ofxaifxSu  T€  Kol  iuSyXaxrffoy,  Koi  Qe&v  IBpifxard  re  KOivh  Kcu  bvaiat^  ijded  rt 
bn6TpoTra. — Herodotus,  viii.,  144. 
X  Lord  Chatham. 


BATTLE   OF    SARATOGA  305 

1777;  a  defeat  which  rescued  the  revolted  colonists  from  cer- 
tain subjection,  and  which,  by  inducing  the  courts  of  France 
and  Spain  to  attack  England  in  their  behalf,  insured  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  United  States  and  the  formation  of  that  trans- 
Atlantic  power  which  not  only  America,  but  both  Europe  and 
Asia,  now  see  and  feel. 

Still,  in  proceeding  to  describe  this  "  decisive  battle  of  the 
world,"  a  very  brief  recapitulation  of  the  earlier  events  of  the 
war  may  be  sufficient ;  nor  shall  I  linger  unnecessarily  on  a 
painful  theme. 

The  five  northern  colonies  of  Massachusetts,  Connecticut, 
Rhode  Island,  New  Hampshire,  and  Vermont,  usually  classed 
together  as  the  New  England  colonies,  were  the  strongholds 
of  the  insurrection  against  the  mother  country.  The  feeling 
of  resistance  was  less  vehement  and  general  in  the  central 
settlement  of  New  York,  and  still  less  so  in  Pennsylvania, 
Maryland,  and  the  other  colonies  of  the  South,  although  every- 
where it  was  formidably  strong.  But  it  was  among  the  de- 
scendants of  the  stern  Puritans  that  the  spirit  of  Cromwell  and 
Vane  breathed  in  all  its  fervor ;  it  was  from  the  New  Eng- 
landers  that  the  first  armed  opposition  to  the  British  crown 
had  been  offered  ;  and  it  was  by  them  that  the  most  stubborn 
determination  to  fight  to  the  last,  rather  than  waive  a  single 
right  or  privilege,  had  been  displayed.  In  1775  they  had  suc- 
ceeded in  forcing  the  British  troops  to  evacuate  Boston ;  and 
the  events  of  1776  had  made  New  York  (which  the  Royalists 
captured  in  that  year)  the  principal  basis  of  operations  for  the 
armies  of  the  mother  country. 

A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  that  the  Hudson  River,  which 
falls  into  the  Atlantic  at  New  York,  runs  down  from  the  north 
at  the  back  of  the  New  England  States,  forming  an  angle  of 
about  forty-five  degrees  with  the  line  of  the  coast  of  the 
Atlantic,  along  which  the  New  England  States  are  situate. 
Northward  of  the  Hudson  we  see  a  small  chain  of  lakes  com- 
municating with  the  Canadian  frontier.  It  is  necessary  to 
attend  closely  to  these  geographical  points  in  order  to  under- 
stand the  plan  of  the  operations  which  the  English  attempted 
in  1777,  and  which  the  battle  of  Saratoga  defeated. 

The  English  had  a  considerable  force  in  Canada,  and  in 
1776  had  completely  repulsed  an  attack  which  the  Americans 
had  made  upon  that  province.    The  British  ministry  resolved 


3o6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

to  avail  themselves,  in  the  next  year,  of  the  advantage  which 
the  occupation  of  Canada  gave  them,  not  merely  for  the  pur- 
pose of  defence,  but  for  the  purpose  of  striking  a  vigorous  and 
crushing  blow  against  the  revolted  colonies.  With  this  view 
the  army  in  Canada  was  largely  re-enforced.  Seven  thousand 
veteran  troops  were  sent  out  from  England,  with  a  corps  of 
artillery  abundantly  supplied  and  led  by  select  and  experi- 
enced ofificers.  Large  quantities  of  military  stores  were  also 
furnished  for  the  equipment  of  the  Canadian  volunteers,  who 
were  expected  to  join  the  expedition.  It  was  intended  that 
the  force  thus  collected  should  march  southward  by  the  line 
of  the  lakes,  and  thence  along  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  River. 
The  British  army  from  New  York  (or  a  large  detachment  of 
it)  was  to  make  a  simultaneous  movement  northward,  up  the 
line  of  the  Hudson,  and  the  two  expeditions  were  to  unite  at 
Albany,  a  town  on  that  river.  By  these  operations  all  com- 
munication between  the  northern  colonies  and  those  of  the 
centre  and  south  would  be  cut  off.  An  irresistible  force  would 
be  concentrated,  so  as  to  crush  all  further  opposition  in  New 
England ;  and  when  this  was  done,  it  was  believed  that  the 
other  colonies  would  speedily  submit.  The  Americans  had 
no  troops  in  the  field  that  seemed  able  to  baffle  these  move- 
ments. Their  principal  army,  under  Washington,  was  occu- 
pied in  watching  over  Pennsylvania  and  the  South.  At  any 
rate,  it  was  believed  that,  in  order  to  oppose  the  plan  intended 
for  the  new  campaign,  the  insurgents  must  risk  a  pitched 
battle,  in  which  the  superiority  of  the  Royalists,  in  numbers, 
in  discipline,  and  in  equipment,  seemed  to  promise  to  the  latter 
a  crowning  victory.  Without  question,  the  plan  was  ably 
formed ;  and  had  the  success  of  the  execution  been  equal  to 
the  ingenuity  of  the  design,  the  reconquest  or  submission  of 
the  thirteen  United  States  must  in  all  human  probability  have 
followed,  and  the  independence  which  they  proclaimed  in  1776 
would  have  been  extinguished  before  it  existed  a  second  year. 
No  European  power  had  as  yet  come  forward  to  aid  America. 
It  is  true  that  England  was  generally  regarded  with  jealousy 
and  ill-will,  and  was  thought  to  have  acquired,  at  the  treaty 
of  Paris,  a  preponderance  of  dominion  which  was  perilous  to 
the  balance  of  power ;  but,  though  many  were  willing  to 
wound,  none  had  yet  ventured  to  strike ;  and  America,  if  de- 
feated in  1777,  would  have  been  suffered  to  fall  unaided. 


BATTLE  OF   SARATOGA  307 

Burgoyne  had  gained  celebrity  by  some  bold  and  dashing 
exploits  in  Portugal  during  the  last  war;  he  was  personally 
as  brave  an  officer  as  ever  headed  British  troops ;  he  had  con- 
siderable skill  as  a  tactician ;  and  his  general  intellectual  abili- 
ties and  acquirements  were  of  a  high  order.  He  had  several 
very  able  and  experienced  officers  under  him,  among  whom 
were  Major-General  Phillips  and  Brigadier-General  Fraser. 
His  regular  troops  amounted,  exclusively  of  the  corps  of  ar- 
tillery, to  about  7,200  men,  rank  and  file.  Nearly  half  of  these 
were  Germans.  He  had  also  an  auxiliary  force  of  from  two 
to  three  thousand  Canadians.  He  summoned  the  warriors  of 
several  tribes  of  the  red  Indians  near  the  Western  lakes  to 
join  his  army.  Much  eloquence  was  poured  forth  both  in 
America  and  in  England  in  denouncing  the  use  of  these  savage 
auxiliaries.  Yet  Burgoyne  seems  to  have  done  no  more  than 
Montcalm,  Wolfe,  and  other  French,  American,  and  English 
generals  had  done  before  him.  But,  in  truth,  the  lawless 
ferocity  of  the  Indians,  their  unskilfulness  in  regular  action, 
and  the  utter  impossibility  of  bringing  them  under  any  disci' 
pline  made  their  services  of  little  or  no  value  in  times  of  diffi' 
culty;  while  the  indignation  which  their  outrages  inspired 
went  far  to  rouse  the  whole  population  of  the  invaded  districts 
into  active  hostilities  against  Burgoyne's  force. 

Burgoyne  assembled  his  troops  and  confederates  near  the 
River  Bouquet,  on  the  west  side  of  Lake  Champlain.  He- 
then,  on  the  2 1  St  of  June,  1777,  gave  his  red  allies  a  war  feast, 
and  harangued  them  on  the  necessity  of  abstaining  from  their 
usual  cruel  practices  against  unarmed  people  and  prisoners. 
At  the  same  time  he  published  a  pompous  manifesto  to  the 
Americans,  in  which  he  threatened  the  refractory  with  all  the 
horrors  of  war,  Indian  as  well  as  European.  The  army  pro- 
ceeded by  water  to  Crown  Point,  a  fortification  which  the 
Americans  held  at  the  northern  extremity  of  the  inlet  by  which 
the  water  from  Lake  George  is  conveyed  to  Lake  Champlain. 
He  landed  here  without  opposition ;  but  the  reduction  of 
Ticonderoga,  a  fortification  about  twelve  miles  to  the  south 
of  Crown  Point,  was  a  more  serious  matter,  and  was  supposed 
to  be  the  critical  part  of  the  expedition.  Ticonderoga  com- 
manded the  passage  along  the  lakes,  and  was  considered  to 
be  the  key  to  the  route  which  Burgoyne  wished  to  follow. 
The  English  had  been  repulsed  in  an  attack  on  it  in  the  war 


3o8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

with  the  French  in  1758,  with  severe  loss.  But  Burgoyne 
now  invested  it  with  great  skill ;  and  the  American  general, 
St.  Clair,  who  had  only  an  ill-equipped  army  of  about  3,000 
men,  evacuated  it  on  the  5th  of  July.  It  seems  evident  that  a 
different  course  would  have  caused  the  destruction  or  capture 
of  his  whole  army,  which,  weak  as  it  was,  was  the  chief  force 
then  in  the  field  for  the  protection  of  the  New  England  States. 
When  censured  by  some  of  his  countrymen  for  abandoning 
Ticonderoga,  St.  Clair  truly  replied  "  that  he  had  lost  a  post, 
but  saved  a  province."  Burgoyne's  troops  pursued  the  re- 
tiring Americans,  gained  several  advantages  over  them,  and 
took  a  large  part  of  their  artillery  and  military  stores. 

The  loss  of  the  British  in  these  engagements  was  trifling. 
The  army  moved  southward  along  Lake  George  to  Skenes- 
borough,  and  thence,  slowly  and  with  great  difBculty,  across 
a  broken  country,  full  of  creeks  and  marshes,  and  clogged  by 
the  enemy  with  felled  trees  and  other  obstacles,  to  Fort  Ed- 
ward, on  the  Hudson  River,  the  American  troops  continuing 
to  retire  before  them. 

Burgoyne  reached  the  left  bank  of  the  Hudson  River  on  the 
30th  of  July,  Hitherto  he  had  overcome  every  dif^culty  which 
the  enemy  and  the  nature  of  the  country  had  placed  in  his 
way.  His  army  was  in  excellent  order  and  in  the  highest 
spirits,  and  the  peril  of  the  expedition  seemed  over  when  they 
were  once  on  the  bank  of  the  river  which  was  to  be  the  chan- 
nel of  communication  between  them  and  the  British  army  in 
the  South.  But  their  feelings,  and  those  of  the  English  nation 
in  general,  when  their  successes  were  announced,  may  best  be 
learned  from  a  contemporary  writer.  Burke,  in  the  "  Annual 
Register"  for  1777,  describes  them  thus: 

"  Such  was  the  rapid  torrent  of  success,  which  swept  every 
thing  away  before  the  Northern  army  in  its  onset.  It  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at  if  both  officers  and  private  men  were  highly 
elated  with  their  good  fortune,  and  deemed  that  and  their  prow- 
ess to  be  irresistible ;  if  they  regarded  their  enemy  with  the 
greatest  contempt ;  considered  their  own  toils  to  be  nearly  at 
an  end ;  Albany  to  be  already  in  their  hands ;  and  the  reduction 
of  the  northern  provinces  to  be  rather  a  matter  of  some  time 
than  an  arduous  task  full  of  difficulty  and  danger. 

"  At  home  the  joy  and  exultation  was  extreme ;  not  only 
at  court,  but  with  all  those  who  hoped  or  wished  the  unquali- 


BATTLE   OF   SARATOGA  309 

fied  subjugation  and  unconditional  submission  of  the  colonies. 
The  loss  in  reputation  was  greater  to  the  Americans,  and 
capable  of  more  fatal  consequences,  than  even  that  of  ground, 
of  posts,  of  artillery,  or  of  men.  All  the  contemptuous  and 
most  degrading  charges  which  had  been  made  by  their  ene- 
mies, of  their  wanting  the  resolution  and  abilities  of  men,  even 
in  their  defence  of  whatever  was  dear  to  them,  were  now  re- 
peated and  believed.  Those  who  still  regarded  them  as  men, 
and  who  had  not  yet  lost  all  afifection  to  them  as  brethren; 
who  also  retained  hopes  that  a  happy  reconciliation  upon  con- 
stitutional principles,  without  sacrificing  the  dignity  of  the 
just  authority  of  government  on  the  one  side,  or  a  dereliction 
of  the  rights  of  freemen  on  the  other,  was  not  even  now  im- 
possible, notwithstanding  their  favorable  dispositions  in  gen- 
eral, could  not  help  feeling  upon  this  occasion  that  the  Ameri- 
cans sunk  not  a  little  in  their  estimation.  It  was  not  difficult 
to  diffuse  an  opinion  that  the  war,  in  effect,  was  over,  and  that 
any  further  resistance  could  serve  only  to  render  the  terms  of 
their  submission  the  worse.  Such  were  some  of  the  immediate 
effects  of  the  loss  of  those  grand  keys  of  North  America — 
Ticonderoga  and  the  lakes." 

The  astonishment  and  alarm  which  these  events  produced 
among  the  Americans  were  naturally  great ;  but  in  the  midst 
of  their  disasters  none  of  the  colonists  showed  any  disposition 
to  submit.  The  local  governments  of  the  New  England  States, 
as  well  as  the  Congress,  acted  with  vigor  and  firmness  in  their 
efforts  to  repel  the  enemy.  General  Gates  was  sent  to  take 
the  command  of  the  army  at  Saratoga  ;  and  Arnold,  a  favorite 
leader  of  the  Americans,  was  despatched  by  Washington  to 
act  under  him,  with  re-enforcements  of  troops  and  guns  from 
the  main  American  army.  Burgoyne's  employment  of  the 
Indians  now  produced  the  worst  possible  effects.  Though  he 
labored  hard  to  check  the  atrocities  which  they  were  accus- 
tomed to  commit,  he  could  not  prevent  the  occurrence  of  many 
barbarous  outrages,  repugnant  both  to  the  feelings  of  hu- 
manity and  to  the  laws  of  civilized  warfare.  The  American 
commanders  took  care  that  the  reports  of  these  excesses 
should  be  circulated  far  and  wide,  well  knowing  that  they 
would  make  the  stern  New  Englanders  not  droop,  but  rage. 
Such  was  their  effect ;  and  though,  when  each  man  looked 
uf)on  his  wife,  his  children,  his  sisters,  or  his  aged  parents,  the 


3IO  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

thought  of  the  merciless  Indian  "  thirsting  for  the  blood  of 
man,  woman,  and  child,"  of  "  the  cannibal  savage  torturing, 
murdering,  roasting,  and  eating  the  mangled  victims  of  his 
barbarous  battles,"  *  might  raise  terror  in  the  bravest  breasts ; 
this  very  terror  produced  a  directly  contrary  effect  to  causing 
submission  to  the  royal  army.  It  was  seen  that  the  few  friends 
of  the  royal  cause,  as  well  as  its  enemies,  were  liable  to  be  the 
victims  of  the  indiscriminate  rage  of  the  savages ;  f  and  thus 
"  the  inhabitants  of  the  open  and  frontier  countries  had  no 
choice  of  acting:  they  had  no  means  of  security  left  but  by 
abandoning  their  habitations  and  taking  up  arms.  Every  man 
saw  the  necessity  of  becoming  a  temporary  soldier,  not  only 
for  his  own  security,  but  for  the  protection  and  defence  of 
those  connections  which  are  dearer  than  life  itself.  Thus  an 
army  was  poured  forth  by  the  woods,  mountains,  and  marshes, 
which  in  this  part  were  thickly  sown  with  plantations  and 
villages.  The  Americans  recalled  their  courage,  and,  when 
their  regular  army  seemed  to  be  entirely  wasted,  the  spirit  of 
the  country  produced  a  much  greater  and  more  formidable 
force."  X 

While  resolute  recruits,  accustomed  to  the  use  of  firearms, 
and  all  partially  trained  by  service  in  the  provincial  militias, 
were  thus  flocking  to  the  standard  of  Gates  and  Arnold  at 
Saratoga,  and  while  Burgoyne  was  engaged  at  Fort  Edward 
in  providing  the  means  for  the  further  advance  of  his  army 
through  the  intricate  and  hostile  country  that  still  lay  before 
him,  two  events  occurred,  in  each  of  which  the  British  sus- 
tained loss  and  the  Americans  obtained  advantage,  the  moral 
effects  of  which  were  even  more  important  than  the  immediate 
result  of  the  encounters.  When  Burgoyne  left  Canada,  Gen- 
eral St.  Leger  was  detached  from  that  province  with  a  mixed 
force  of  about  i,ooo  men  and  some  light  field-pieces  across 
Lake  Ontario  against  Fort  Stanwix,  which  the  Americans 
held.  After  capturing  this,  he  was  to  march  along  the  Mo- 
hawk River  to  its  confluence  with  the  Hudson,  between  Sara- 
toga and  Albany,  where  his  force  and  that  of  Burgoyne's  were 
to  unite.  But,  after  some  successes,  St.  Leger  was  obliged  to 
retreat,  and  to  abandon  his  tents  and  large  quantities  of  stores 

*  Lord  Chatham's  speech  on  the  employment  of  Indians  in  the  war. 
t  See,  in  the  "  Annual  Register"  for  1777,  p.  117,  the  "  Narrative^of 
the  Murder  of  Miss  M'Crea,  the  daughter  of  an  American  Loyalist." 
t  Burke. 


BATTLE    OF    SARATOGA  311 

to  the  garrison.  At  the  very  time  that  General  Burgoyne 
heard  of  this  disaster,  he  experienced  one  still  more  severe  in 
the  defeat  of  Colonel  Baum,  with  a  large  detachment  of  Ger- 
man troops,  at  Bennington,  whither  Burgoyne  had  sent  them 
for  the  purpose  of  capturing  some  magazines  of  provisions, 
of  which  the  British  army  stood  greatly  in  need.  The  Ameri- 
cans, augmented  by  continual  accessions  of  strength,  suc- 
ceeded, after  many  attacks,  in  breaking  this  corps,  which  fled 
into  the  woods,  and  left  its  commander  mortally  wounded  on 
the  field :  they  then  marched  against  a  force  of  five  hundred 
grenadiers  and  light  infantry,  which  was  advancing  to  Colonel 
Baum's  assistance  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Breyman,  who, 
after  a  gallant  resistance,  was  obliged  to  retreat  on  the  main 
army.  The  British  loss  in  these  two  actions  exceeded  six 
hundred  men ;  and  a  party  of  American  loyalists,  on  their 
way  to  join  the  army,  having  attached  themselves  to  Colonel 
Baum's  corps,  were  destroyed  with  it. 

Notwithstanding  these  reverses,  which  added  greatly  to  the 
spirit  and  numbers  of  the  American  forces,  Burgoyne  deter- 
mined to  advance.  It  was  impossible  any  longer  to  keep  up 
his  communications  with  Canada  by  way  of  the  lakes,  so  as  to 
supply  his  army  on  his  southward  march  ;  but  having,  by  un- 
remitting exertions,  collected  provisions  for  thirty  days,  he 
crossed  the  Hudson  by  means  of  a  bridge  of  rafts,  and,  march- 
ing a  short  distance  along  its  western  bank,  he  encamped  on 
the  14th  of  September  on  the  heights  of  Saratoga,  about  six- 
teen miles  from  Albany.  The  Americans  had  fallen  back  from 
Saratoga,  and  were  now  strongly  posted  near  Stillwater,  about 
half  way  between  Saratoga  and  Albany,  and  showed  a  deter- 
mination to  recede  no  further. 

Meanwhile  Lord  Howe,  with  the  bulk  of  the  British  army 
that  had  lain  at  New  York,  had  sailed  away  to  the  Delaware, 
and  there  commenced  a  campaign  against  Washington,  in 
which  the  English  general  took  Philadelphia,  and  gained  other 
showy  but  unprofitable  successes.  But  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  a 
brave  and  skilful  officer,  was  left  with  a  considerable  force  at 
New  York,  and  he  undertook  the  task  of  moving  up  the  Hud- 
son to  co-operate  with  Burgoyne.  Clinton  was  obliged  for 
this  purpose  to  wait  for  re-enforcements  which  had  been  prom- 
ised from  England,  and  these  did  not  arrive  till  September.  As 
soon  as  he  received  them,  Clinton  embarked  about  3,000  of  hi§ 


312  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

men  on  a  flotilla,  convoyed  by  some  ships-of-war  under  Com- 
mander Hotham,  and  proceeded  to  force  his  way  up  the  river. 

The  country  between  Burgoyne's  position  at  Saratoga  and 
that  of  the  Americans  at  Stillwater  was  rugged,  and  seamed 
with  creeks  and  water-courses ;  but,  after  great  labor  in  mak- 
ing bridges  and  temporary  causeways,  the  British  army  moved 
forward.  About  four  miles  from  Saratoga,  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  19th  of  September,  a  sharp  encounter  took  place  be- 
tween part  of  the  English  right  wing,  under  Burgoyne  himself, 
and  a  strong  body  of  the  enemy,  under  Gates  and  Arnold.  The 
conflict  lasted  till  sunset.  The  British  remained  masters  of  the 
field ;  but  the  loss  on  each  side  was  nearly  equal  (from  five  to 
six  hundred  men) ;  and  the  spirits  of  the  Americans  were 
greatly  raised  by  having  withstood  the  best  regular  troops  of 
the  English  army.  Burgoyne  now  halted  again,  and  strength- 
ened his  position  by  field-works  and  redoubts ;  and  the  Ameri- 
cans also  improved  their  defences.  The  two  armies  remained 
nearly  within  cannon-shot  of  each  other  for  a  considerable 
time,  during  which  Burgoyne  was  anxiously  looking  for  in- 
telligence of  the  promised  expedition  from  New  York,  which, 
according  to  the  original  plan,  ought  by  this  time  to  have  been 
approaching  Albany  from  the  south.  At  last  a  messenger  from 
Clinton  made  his  way,  with  great  difficulty,  to  Burgoyne's 
camp,  and  brought  the  information  that  Clinton  was  on  his 
way  up  the  Hudson  to  attack  the  American  forts  which  barred 
the  passage  up  that  river  to  Albany,  Burgoyne,  in  reply,  on 
the  30th  of  September,  urged  Clinton  to  attack  the  forts  as 
speedily  as  possible,  stating  that  the  effect  of  such  an  attack, 
or  even  the  semblance  of  it,  would  be  to  move  the  American 
army  from  its  position  before  his  own  troops.  By  another  mes- 
senger, who  reached  Clinton  on  the  5th  of  October,  Burgoyne 
informed  his  brother  general  that  he  had  lost  his  communica- 
tions with  Canada,  but  had  provisions  which  would  last  him 
till  the  20th.  Burgoyne  described  himself  as  strongly  posted, 
and  stated  that,  though  the  Americans  in  front  of  him  were 
strongly  posted  also,  he  made  no  doubt  of  being  able  to  force 
them  and  making  his  way  to  Albany;  but  that  he  doubted 
whether  he  could  subsist  there,  as  the  country  was  drained  of 
provisions.  He  wished  Clinton  to  meet  him  there  and  to  keep 
open  a  communication  with  New  York, 

Burgoyne  had  overestimated  his  resources,  and  in  the  very 


BATTLE    OF    SARATOGA  313 

beginning  of  October  found  difficulty  and  distress  pressing  him 
hard. 

The  Indians  and  Canadians  now  began  to  desert  him, 
\vhile,  on  the  other  hand,  Gates'  army  was  continually  re-en- 
forced by  fresh  bodies  of  the  militia.  An  expeditionary  force 
was  detached  by  the  Americans,  which  made  a  bold  though 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  retake  Ticonderoga.  And  finding  the 
number  and  spirit  of  the  enemy  to  increase  daily,  and  his  own 
stores  of  provisions  to  diminish,  Burgoyne  determined  on  at- 
tacking the  Americans  in  front  of  him,  and,  by  dislodging  them 
from  their  position,  to  gain  the  means  of  moving  upon  Albany, 
or,  at  least,  of  relieving  his  troops  from  the  straitened  position 
in  which  they  were  cooped  up. 

Burgoyne's  force  was  now  reduced  to  less  than  6,000  men. 
The  right  of  his  camp  was  on  high  ground  a  little  to  the  west 
of  the  river ;  thence  his  intrenchments  extended  along  the 
lower  ground  to  the  bank  of  the  Hudson,  their  line  being  nearly 
at  a  right  angle  with  the  course  of  the  stream.  The  lines  were 
fortified  with  redoubts  and  field-works.  On  the  extreme  right 
a  strong  redoubt  and  entrenchments  were  thrown  up.  The 
numerical  force  of  the  Americans  was  now  greater  than  the 
British,  even  in  regular  troops,  and  the  numbers  of  the  militia 
and  volunteers  which  had  joined  Gates  and  Arnold  were 
greater  still. 

General  Lincoln,  with  2,000  New  England  troops,  had 
reached  the  American  camp  on  the  29th  of  September.  Gates 
gave  him  the  command  of  the  right  wing,  and  took  in  person 
the  command  of  the  left  wing,  which  was  composed  of  two 
brigades  under  Generals  Poor  and  Learned,  of  Colonel  Mor- 
gan's rifle  corps,  and  part  of  the  fresh  New  England  militia. 
The  whole  of  the  American  lines  had  been  ably  fortified  under 
the  direction  of  the  celebrated  Polish  general,  Kosciusko,  who 
was  now  serving  as  a  volunteer  in  Gates's  army.  The  right  of 
the  American  position — that  is  to  say,  the  part  of  it  nearest  to 
the  river — was  too  strong  to  be  assailed  with  any  prospect  of 
success,  and  Burgoyne  therefore  determined  to  endeavor  to 
force  their  left.  For  this  purpose  he  formed  a  column  of  1,500 
regular  troops,  with  two  twelve-pounders,  two  howitzers,  and 
six  six-pounders.  He  headed  this  in  person,  having  Generals 
Phillips,  Riedesel,  and  Eraser  under  him.  The  enemy's  force 
immediately  in  front  of  his  lines  was  so  strong  that  he  dared  not 


314  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

weaken  the  troops  who  guarded  them  by  detaching  any  more 
to  strengthen  his  column  of  attack. 

It  was  on  the  7th  of  October  that  Burgoyne  led  his  column 
on  to  the  attack ;  and  on  the  preceding  day,  the  6th,  Clinton 
had  successfully  executed  a  brilliant  enterprise  against  the  two 
American  forts  which  barred  his  progress  up  the  Hudson.  He 
had  captured  them  both,  with  severe  loss  to  the  American 
forces  opposed  to  him;  he  had  destroyed  the  fleet  which  the 
Americans  had  been  forming  on  the  Hudson,  under  the  pro- 
tection of  their  forts  ;  and  the  upward  river  was  laid  open  to  his 
squadron.  He  was  now  only  a  hundred  and  fifty-six  miles  dis- 
tant from  Burgoyne,  and  a  detachment  of  1,700  men  actually 
advanced  within  forty  miles  of  Albany.  Unfortunately,  Bur- 
goyne and  Clinton  were  each  ignorant  of  the  other's  move- 
ments ;  but  if  Burgoyne  had  won  his  battle  on  the  7th,  he  must, 
on  advancing,  have  soon  learned  the  tidings  of  Clinton's  suc- 
cess, and  Clinton  would  have  heard  of  his.  A  junction  would 
soon  have  been  made  of  the  two  victorious  armies,  and  the 
great  objects  of  the  campaign  might  yet  have  been  accom- 
plished. All  depended  on  the  fortune  of  the  column  with  which 
Burgoyne,  on  the  eventful  7th  of  October,  1777,  advanced 
against  the  American  position.  There  were  brave  men,  both 
English  and  German,  in  its  ranks ;  and,  in  particular,  it  com- 
prised one  of  the  best  bodies  of  Grenadiers  in  the  British  ser- 
vice. 

Burgoyne  pushed  forward  some  bodies  of  irregular  troops  to 
distract  the  enemy's  attention,  and  led  his  column  to  within 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  left  of  Gates's  camp,  and  then 
deployed  his  men  into  line.  The  grenadiers  under  Major  Ack- 
land,  and  the  artillery  under  Major  Williams,  were  drawn  up 
on  the  left;  a  corps  of  Germans  under  General  Riedesel,  and 
some  British  troops  under  General  Phillips  v^^ere  in  the  centre, 
and  the  English  light  infantry  and  the  24th  Regiment  under 
Lord  Balcarres  and  General  Eraser  were  on  the  right.  But 
Gates  did  not  wait  to  be  attacked;  and  directly  the  British  line 
was  formed  and  began  to  advance,  the  American  general,  with 
admirable  skill,  caused  General  Poor's  brigade  of  New  York 
and  New  Hampshire  troops,  and  part  of  General  Learned's 
brigade,  to  make  a  sudden  and  vehement  rush  against  its  left, 
and  at  the  same  time  sent  Colonel  Morgan,  with  his  rifle  corps 
and  other  troops,  amounting  to  1,500,  to  turn  the  right  of  the 


BATTLE   OF   SARATOGA  315 

English.  The  grenadiers  under  Ackland  sustained  the  charge 
of  superior  numbers  nobly.  But  Gates  sent  more  Americans 
forward,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  action  became  general  along 
the  centre,  so  as  to  prevent  the  Germans  from  detaching  any 
help  to  the  grenadiers.  Morgan,  with  his  riflemen,  was  now 
pressing  Lord  Balcarres  and  General  Fraser  hard,  and  fresh 
masses  of  the  enemy  were  observed  advancing  from  their  ex- 
treme left,  with  the  evident  intention  of  forcing  the  British  right 
and  cutting  ofr  its  retreat.  The  EngHsh  light  infantry  and  the 
24th  now  fell  back  and  formed  an  oblique  second  Hne,  which 
enabled  them  to  baffle  this  manoeuvre  and  also  to  succor  their 
comrades  in  the  left  wing,  the  gallant  grenadiers,  who  were 
overpowered  by  superior  numbers  and,  but  for  this  aid,  must 
have  been  cut  to  pieces. 

The  contest  now^  was  fiercely  maintained  on  both  sides.  The 
English  cannon  were  repeatedly  taken  and  retaken;  but  when 
the  grenadiers  near  them  were  forced  back  by  the  weight  of 
superior  numbers,  one  of  the  guns  was  permanently  captured 
by  the  Americans,  and  turned  upon  the  English.  Major  Will- 
iams and  Major  Ackland  were  both  made  prisoners,  and  in  this 
part  of  the  field  the  advantage  of  the  Americans  was  decided. 
The  British  centre  still  held  its  ground;  but  now  it  was  that 
the  American  general  Arnold  appeared  upon  the  scene  and  did 
more  for  his  countrymen  than  whole  battalions  could  have  ef- 
fected. Arnold,  when  the  decisive  engagement  of  the  7th  of 
October  commenced,  had  been  deprived  of  his  command  by 
Gates,  in  consequence  of  a  quarrel  between  them  about  the  action 
of  the  19th  of  September.  He  had  listened  for  a  short  time  in 
the  American  camp  to  the  thunder  of  the  battle,  in  which  he  had 
no  military  right  to  take  part,  either  as  commander  or  as  com- 
batant. But  his  excited  spirit  could  not  long  endure  such  a  state 
of  inaction.  He  called  for  his  horse,  a  powerful  brown  charger, 
and,  springing  on  it,  galloped  furiously  to  where  the  fight  seemed 
to  be  the  thickest.  Gates  saw  him,  and  sent  an  aide-de-camp 
to  recall  him;  but  Arnold  spurred  far  in  advance,  and  placed 
himself  at  the  head  of  three  regiments  which  had  formerly  been 
under  him,  and  which  welcomed  their  old  commander  with  joy- 
ous cheers.  He  led  them  instantly  upon  the  British  centre; 
and  then,  galloping  along  the  American  line,  he  issued  orders 
for  a  renewed  and  a  closer  attack,  which  were  obeyed  with 
alacrity,  Arnold  himself  setting  the  example  of  the  most  daring 


3i6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

personal  bravery  and  charging  more  than  once,  sword  in  hand, 
into  the  Enghsh  ranks.  On  the  British  side  the  officers  did 
their  duty  nobly;  but  General  Fraser  was  the  most  eminent  of 
them  all,  restoring  order  wherever  the  line  began  to  waver,  and 
infusing  fresh  courage  into  his  men  by  voice  and  example. 
Mounted  on  an  iron-gray  charger,  and  dressed  in  the  full  uni- 
form of  a  general  officer,  he  was  conspicuous  to  foes  as  well  as 
to  friends.  The  American  Colonel  Morgan  thought  that  the 
fate  of  the  battle  rested  on  this  gallant  man's  life,  and,  calling 
several  of  his  best  marksmen  round  him,  pointed  Fraser  out, 
and  said:  "  That  officer  is  General  Fraser;  I  admire  him,  but 
he  must  die.  Our  victory  depends  on  it.  Take  your  stations 
in  that  clump  of  bushes,  and  do  your  duty."  Within  five  min- 
utes Fraser  fell,  mortally  wounded,  and  was  carried  to  the  British 
camp  by  two  grenadiers.  Just  previously  to  his  being  struck  by 
the  fatal  bullet,  one  rifle-ball  had  cut  the  crupper  of  his  saddle 
and  another  had  passed  through  his  horse's  mane  close  behind 
the  ears.  His  aide-de-camp  had  noticed  this,  and  said:  "  It  is 
evident  that  you  are  marked  out  for  particular  aim;  would  it 
not  be  prudent  for  you  to  retire  from  this  place?"  Fraser  re- 
plied: "  My  duty  forbids  me  to  fly  from  danger  ";  and  the  next 
moment  he  fell. 

Burgoyne's  whole  force  was  soon  compelled  to  retreat  tow- 
ards their  camp;  the  left  and  centre  were  in  complete  dis- 
order; but  the  Light  Infantry  and  the  24th  checked  the  fury 
of  the  assailants,  and  the  remains  of  the  column  with  great 
difficulty  effected  their  return  to  their  camp,  leaving  six  of 
their  cannons  in  the  possession  of  the  enemy,  and  great  num- 
bers of  killed  and  wounded  on  the  field,  and  especially  a  large 
proportion  of  the  artillerymen,  who  had  stood  to  their  guns 
until  shot  down  or  bayoneted  beside  them  by  the  advancing 
Americans. 

Burgoyne's  column  had  been  defeated,  but  the  action  was 
not  yet  over.  The  English  had  scarcely  entered  the  camp, 
when  the  Americans,  pursuing  their  success,  assaulted  it  in  sev- 
eral places  with  remarkable  impetuosity,  rushing  in  upon  the 
intrenchments  through  a  severe  fire  of  grape-shot  and  mus- 
ketry. Arnold  especially,  who  on  this  day  appeared  mad- 
dened with  the  thirst  of  combat  and  carnage,  urged  on  the 
attack  against  a  part  of  the  intrenchments  which  was  occupied 
by  the  Light  Infantry  under  Lord  Balcarres!*  But  the  Eng- 
*  Botta's  "  American  War,"  book  viii. 


BATTLE   OF    SARATOGA  317 

lish  received  him  with  vigor  and  spirit.  The  struggle  here  was 
obstinate  and  sanguinary.  At  length,  as  it  grew  towards  even- 
ing, Arnold  having  forced  all  obstacles,  entered  the  works  with 
some  of  the  most  fearless  of  his  followers.  But  in  this  critical 
moment  of  glory  and  danger,  he  received  a  painful  wound  in 
the  same  leg  which  had  already  been  injured  at  the  assault  on 
Quebec.  To  his  bitter  regret,  he  was  obliged  to  be  carried 
back.  His  party  still  continued  the  attack  ;  but  the  English 
also  continued  their  obstinate  resistance,  and  at  last  night  fell, 
and  the  assailants  withdrew  from  this  quarter  of  the  British 
intrenchments.  But  in  another  part  the  attack  had  been  more 
successful.  A  body  of  the  Americans,  under  Colonel  Brooke, 
forced  their  way  in  through  a  part  of  the  intrenchments  on 
the  extreme  right,  which  was  defended  by  the  Hessian  reserve 
under  Colonel  Breyman.  The  Germans  resisted  well,  and 
Breyman  died  in  defence  of  his  post,  but  the  Americans  made 
good  the  ground  which  they  had  won,  and  captured  baggage, 
tents,  artillery,  and  a  store  of  ammunition,  which  they  were 
greatly  in  need  of.  They  had,  by  establishing  themselves  on 
this  point,  acquired  the  means  of  completely  turning  the  right 
flank  of  the  British,  and  gaining  their  rear.  To  prevent  this 
calamity,  Burgoyne  effected  during  the  night  an  entire 
change  of  position.  With  great  skill,  he  removed  his  whole 
army  to  some  heights  near  the  river,  a  little  northward  of  the 
former  camp,  and  he  there  drew  up  his  men,  expecting  to  be 
attacked  on  the  following  day.  But  Gates  was  resolved  not  to 
risk  the  certain  triumph  which  his  success  had  already  secured 
for  him.  He  harassed  the  English  wath  skirmishes,  but  at- 
tempted no  regular  attack.  Meanwhile  he  detached  bodies  of 
troops  on  both  sides  of  the  Hudson  to  prevent  the  British  from 
recrossing  that  river  and  to  bar  their  retreat.  When  night  fell, 
it  became  absolutely  necessary  for  Burgoyne  to  retire  again, 
and,  accordingly,  the  troops  were  marched  through  a  stormy 
and  rainy  night  towards  Saratoga,  abandoning  their  sick  and 
wounded,  and  the  greater  part  of  their  baggage  to  the  enemy. 

Before  the  rear-guard  quitted  the  camp,  the  last  sad  honors 
were  paid  to  the  brave  General  Eraser,  who  expired  on  the  day 
after  the  action. 

He  had,  almost  with  his  last  breath,  expressed  a  wish  to  be 
buried  in  the  redoubt  which  had  formed  the  part  of  the  British 
lines  where  he  had  been  stationed,  but  which  had  now  been 


3i8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

abandoned  by  the  English,  and  was  within  full  range  of  the 
cannon  which  the  advancing  Americans  were  rapidly  placing 
in  position  to  bear  upon  Burgoyne's  force.  Burgoyne  resolved, 
nevertheless,  to  comply  with  the  dying  wish  of  his  comrade; 
and  the  interment  took  place  under  circumstances  the  most 
affecting  that  have  ever  marked  a  soldier's  funeral.  Still  more 
interesting  is  the  narrative  of  Lady  Ackland's  passage  from  the 
British  to  the  American  camp,  after  the  battle,  to  share  the 
captivity  and  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  her  husband,  who  had 
been  severely  wounded  and  left  in  the  enemy's  power.  The 
American  historian  Lossing  has  described  both  these  touching 
episodes  of  the  campaign  in  a  spirit  that  does  honor  to  the  writer 
as  well  as  to  his  subject.  After  narrating  the  death  of  General 
Fraser  on  the  8th  of  October,  he  says  that  "  it  was  just  at  sun- 
set, on  that  calm  October  evening,  that  the  corpse  of  General 
Fraser  was  carried  up  the  hill  to  the  place  of  burial  within  the 
'  great  redoubt.'  It  was  attended  only  by  the  members  of  his 
military  family  and  Mr.  Brudenell,  the  chaplain;  yet  the  eyes 
of  hundreds  of  both  armies  followed  the  solemn  procession, 
while  the  Americans,  ignorant  of  its  true  character,  kept  up  a 
constant  cannonade  upon  the  redoubt.  The  chaplain,  unawed 
by  the  danger  to  which  he  was  exposed,  as  the  cannon-balls 
which  struck  the  hill  threw  the  loose  soil  over  him,  pronounced 
the  impressive  funeral  service  of  the  Church  of  England  with 
an  unfaltering  voice.  The  growing  darkness  added  solemnity 
to  the  scene.  Suddenly  the  irregular  firing  ceased,  and  the 
solemn  voice  of  a  single  cannon,  at  measured  intervals,  boomed 
along  the  valley,  and  awakened  the  responses  of  the  hills.  It 
was  a  minute-gun  fired  by  the  Americans  in  honor  of  the  gallant 
dead.  The  moment  information  was  given  that  the  gathering 
at  the  redoubt  was  a  funeral  company,  fulfilling,  amid  imminent 
perils,  the  last-breathed  wishes  of  the  noble  Fraser,  orders  were 
issued  to  withhold  the  cannonade  with  balls  and  to  render  mili- 
tary homage  to  the  fallen  brave. 

"  The  case  of  Major  Ackland  and  his  heroic  wife  presents 
kindred  features.  He  belonged  to  the  corps  of  grenadiers,  and 
was  an  accomplished  soldier.  His  wife  accompanied  him  to 
Canada  in  1776,  and  during  the  whole  campaign  of  that  year, 
and  until  his  return  to  England  after  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne, 
in  the  autumn  of  1777,  endured  all  the  hardships,  dangers,  and 
privations  of  an  active  campaign  in  an  enemy's  country.     At 


BATTLE    OF    SARATOGA  319 

Chambly,  on  the  Sorel,  she  attended  him  in  illness,  in  a  miser- 
able hut;  and  when  he  was  wounded  in  the  battle  of  Hubbard- 
ton,  Vermont,  she  hastened  to  him  at  Skenesborough  from  Mon- 
treal, where  she  had  been  persuaded  to  remain,  and  resolved  to 
follow  the  army  thereafter.  Just  before  crossing  the  Hudson, 
she  and  her  husband  came  near  losing  their  lives  in  consequence 
of  their  tent  accidentally  taking  fire. 

"  During  the  terrible  engagement  of  the  7th  of  October,  she 
heard  all  the  tumult  and  dreadful  thunder  of  the  battle  in  which 
her  husband  was  engaged;  and  when,  on  the  morning  of  the 
8th,  the  British  fell  back  in  confusion  to  Wilbur's  Basin,  she, 
with  the  other  women,  was  obliged  to  take  refuge  among  the 
dead  and  dying,  for  the  tents  were  all  struck,  and  hardly  a  shed 
was  left  standing.  Her  husband  was  wounded  and  a  prisoner 
in  the  American  camp.  That  gallant  ofificer  was  shot  through 
both  legs.  When  Poor  and  Learned's  troops  assaulted  the 
grenadiers  and  artillery  on  the  British  left,  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  7th,  Wilkinson,  Gates's  adjutant-general,  while  pursuing  the 
flying  enemy  when  they  abandoned  their  battery,  heard  a  feeble 
voice  exclaim,  '  Protect  me,  sir,  against  that  boy.'  He  turned 
and  saw  a  lad  with  a  musket  taking  deliberate  aim  at  a  wounded 
British  ofificer,  lying  in  a  corner  of  a  worm  fence.  Wilkinson 
ordered  the  boy  to  desist,  and  discovered  the  wounded  man  to 
be  Major  Ackland.  He  had  him  conveyed  to  the  quarters  of 
General  Poor  (now  the  residence  of  Mr.  Neilson)  on  the  heights, 
where  every  attention  was  paid  to  his  wants. 

"  When  the  intelligence  that  he  was  wounded  and  a  prisoner 
reached  his  wife,  she  was  greatly  distressed,  and,  by  the  advice 
of  her  friend.  Baron  Riedesel,  resolved  to  visit  the  American 
camp  and  implore  the  favor  of  a  personal  attendance  upon  her 
husband.  On  the  9th  she  sent  a  message  to  Burgoyne  by  Lord 
Petersham,  his  aide,  asking  permission  to  depart.  '  Though  I 
was  ready  to  believe,'  says  Burgoyne,  '  that  patience  and  forti- 
tude, in  a  supreme  degree,  were  to  be  found,  as  well  as  every 
other  virtue,  under  the  most  tender  forms,  I  was  astonished  at 
this  proposal.  After  so  long  an  agitation  of  spirits,  exhausted 
not  only  for  want  of  rest  but  absolute  want  of  food,  drenched 
in  rain  for  twelve  hours  together,  that  a  woman  should  be 
capable  of  such  an  undertaking  as  delivering  herself  to  an  enemy, 
probably  in  the  night,  and  uncertain  of  what  hands  she  might 
fall  into,  appeared  an  efifort  above  human  nature.    The  assistance 


320 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


I  was  enabled  to  give  was  small  indeed.  I  had  not  even  a  cup 
of  wine  to  offer  her.  All  I  could  furnish  to  her  was  an  open 
boat,  and  a  few  lines,  written  upon  dirty  wet  paper,  to  General 
Gates,  recommending  her  to  his  protection.' 

"  The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  note  from  Burgoyne  to  Gen- 
eral Gates :  '  Sir — Lady  Harriet  Ackland,  a  lady  of  the  first 
distinction  of  family,  rank,  and  personal  virtues,  is  under  such 
concern  on  account  of  Major  Ackland,  her  husband,  wounded 
and  a  prisoner  in  your  hands,  that  I  cannot  refuse  her  request 
to  commit  her  to  your  protection.  Whatever  general  impro- 
priety there  may  be  in  persons  in  my  situation  and  yours  to 
solicit  favors,  I  cannot  see  the  uncommon  perseverance  in  every 
female  grace  and  the  exaltation  of  character  of  this  lady,  and 
her  very  hard  fortune,  without  testifying  that  your  attentions 
to  her  will  lay  me  under  obligations.  I  am,  sir,  your  obedient 
servant,  J.  Burgoyne.' 

"  She  set  out  in  an  open  boat  upon  the  Hudson,  accompanied 
by  Mr.  Brudenell,  the  chaplain,  Sarah  Pollard  her  waiting-maid, 
and  her  husband's  valet,  who  had  been  severely  wounded  while 
searching  for  his  master  upon  the  battle-field.  It  was  about 
sunset  when  they  started,  and  a  violent  storm  of  rain  and  wind, 
which  had  been  increasing  since  morning,  rendered  the  voyage 
tedious  and  perilous  in  the  extreme.  It  was  long  after  dark 
when  they  reached  the  American  outposts;  the  sentinel  heard 
their  oars  and  hailed  them.  Lady  Harriet  returned  the  answer 
herself.  The  clear,  silvery  tones  of  a  woman's  voice  amid  the 
darkness  filled  the  soldier  on  duty  with  superstitious  fear,  and 
he  called  a  comrade  to  accompany  him  to  the  river  bank.  The 
errand  of  the  voyagers  was  made  known,  but  the  faithful  guard, 
apprehensive  of  treachery,  would  not  allow  them  to  land  until 
they  sent  for  Major  Dearborn.  They  were  invited  by  that  of- 
ficer to  his  quarters,  where  every  attention  was  paid  to  them, 
and  Lady  Harriet  was  comforted  by  the  joyful  tidings  that  her 
husband  was  safe.  In  the  morning  she  experienced  parental 
tenderness  from  General  Gates,  who  sent  her  to  her  husband, 
at  Poor's  quarters,  under  a  suitable  escort.  There  she  remained 
until  he  was  removed  to  Albany." 

Burgoyne  now  took  up  his  last  position  on  the  heights  near 
Saratoga;  and,  hemmed  in  by  the  enemy,  who  refused  any  en- 
counter, and  baffled  in  all  his  attempts  at  finding  a  path  of 
escape,  he  there  lingered  until  famine  compelled  him  to  capit- 


BATTLE   OF    SARATOGA  321 

iilatc.  The  fortitude  of  the  British  army  during  this  melancholy 
period  has  been  justly  eulogized  by  many  native  historians,  but 
I  prefer  quoting  the  testimony  of  a  foreign  writer,  as  free  from 
all  possibility  of  partiality.     Botta  says: 

"  It  exceeds  the  power  of  words  to  describe  the  pitiable  con- 
dition to  which  the  British  army  was  now  reduced.  The  troops 
were  worn  down  by  a  series  of  toil,  privation,  sickness,  and  des- 
perate fighting.  They  were  abandoned  by  the  Indians  and  Ca- 
nadians; and  the  effective  force  of  the  whole  army  was  now 
diminished  by  repeated  and  heavy  losses,  which  had  principally 
fallen  on  the  best  soldiers  and  the  most  distinguished  ofScers, 
from  ten  thousand  combatants  to  less  than  one-half  that  number. 
Of  this  remnant  little  more  than  three  thousand  were  English. 

"  In  these  circumstances,  and  thus  weakened,  they  were  in- 
vested by  an  army  of  four  times  their  own  number,  whose  posi- 
tion extended  three  parts  of  a  circle  round  them;  who  refused 
to  fight  them,  as  knowing  their  weakness,  and  who,  from  the 
nature  of  the  ground,  could  not  be  attacked  in  any  part.  In 
this  helpless  condition,  obliged  to  be  constantly  under  arms 
while  the  enemy's  cannon  played  on  every  part  of  their  camp 
and  even  the  American  rifle-balls  whistled  in  many  parts  of  the 
lines,  the  troops  of  Burgoyne  retained  their  customary  firm- 
ness; and,  while  sinking  under  a  hard  necessity,  they  showed 
themselves  worthy  of  a  better  fate.  They  could  not  be  re- 
proached with  an  action  or  a  word  which  betrayed  a  want  of 
temper  or  of  fortitude." 

At  length  the  13th  of  October  arrived,  and  as  no  prospect  of 
assistance  appeared,  and  the  provisions  were  nearly  exhausted, 
Burgoyne,  by  the  unanimous  advice  of  a  council  of  war,  sent 
a  messenger  to  the  American  camp  to  treat  of  a  convention. 

General  Gates  in  the  first  instance  demanded  that  the  royal 
army  should  surrender  prisoners  of  war.  He  also  proposed 
that  the  British  should  ground  their  arms.  Burgoyne  replied, 
"  This  article  is  inadmissible  in  every  extremity ;  sooner  than 
this  army  will  consent  to  ground  their  arms  in  their  encamp- 
ment, they  will  rush  on  the  enemy,  determined  to  take  no  quar- 
ter." After  various  messages,  a  convention  for  the  surrender  of 
the  army  was  settled  which  provided  that  "  the  troops  under 
General  Burgoyne  were  to  march  out  of  their  camp  with  the 
honors  of  war,  and  the  artillery  of  the  intrenchments,  to  the 
verge  of  the  river,  where  the  arms  and  artillery  were  to  be  left. 


322  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

The  arms  to  be  piled  by  word  of  command  from  their  own  ofifi- 
cers.  A  free  passage  was  to  be  granted  to  the  army  under 
Lieutenant-General  Burgoyne  to  Great  Britain,  upon  condi- 
tion of  not  serving  again  in  North  America  during  the  present 
contest." 

The  Articles  of  Capitulation  were  settled  on  the  15th  of  Oc- 
tober; and  on  that  very  evening  a  messenger  arrived  from 
Clinton  with  an  account  of  his  successes,  and  with  the  tidings 
that  part  of  his  force  had  penetrated  as  far  as  Esopus,  within 
fifty  miles  of  Burgoyne's  camp.  But  it  was  too  late.  The  pub- 
lic faith  was  pledged ;  and  the  army  was  indeed  too  debilitated 
by  fatigue  and  hunger  to  resist  an  attack,  if  made ;  and  Gates 
certainly  would  have  made  it,  if  the  convention  had  been 
broken  ofif.  Accordingly,  on  the  17th,  the  Convention  of  Sara- 
toga was  carried  into  effect.  By  this  convention  5,790  men 
surrendered  themselves  as  prisoners.  The  sick  and  wounded 
left  in  the  camp  when  the  British  retreated  to  Saratoga,  to- 
gether with  the  numbers  of  the  British,  German,  and  Canadian 
troops  who  were  killed,  wounded,  or  taken,  and  who  had  de- 
serted in  the  preceding  part  of  the  expedition,  were  reckoned 
to  be  4,689. 

The  British  sick  and  wounded  who  had  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  Americans  after  the  battle  of  the  7th  were  treated  with 
exemplary  humanity ;  and  when  the  Convention  was  executed, 
General  Gates  showed  a  noble  delicacy  of  feeling,  which 
deserves  the  highest  degree  of  honor.  Every  circumstance 
was  avoided  which  could  give  the  appearance  of  triumph.  The 
American  troops  remained  within  their  lines  until  the  British 
had  piled  their  arms ;  and  when  this  was  done,  the  vanquished 
ofificers  and  soldiers  were  received  with  friendly  kindness  by 
their  victors,  and  their  immediate  wants  were  promptly  and 
liberally  supplied.  Discussions  and  disputes  afterwards  arose 
as  to  some  of  the  terms  of  the  Convention,  and  the  American 
Congress  refused  for  a  long  time  to  carry  into  efifect  the  article 
which  provided  for  the  return  of  Burgoyne's  men  to  Europe ; 
but  no  blame  was  imputable  to  General  Gates  or  his  army,  who 
showed  themselves  to  be  generous  as  they  had  proved  them- 
selves to  be  brave. 

Gates,  after  the  victory,  immediately  despatched  Colonel 
Wilkinson  to  carry  the  happy  tidings  to  Congress.  On  being 
introduced  into  the  hall,  he  said :    "  The  whole  British  army 


BATTLE   OF    SARATOGA  323 

has  laid  down  its  arms  at  Saratoga ;  our  own,  full  of  vigor  and 
courage,  expect  your  orders.  It  is  for  your  wisdom  to  decide 
where  the  country  may  still  have  need  for  their  service."  Hon- 
ors and  rewards  were  liberally  voted  by  the  Congress  to  their 
conquering  general  and  his  men ;  and  it  would  be  difhcult 
(says  the  Italian  historian)  to  describe  the  transports  of  joy 
which  the  news  of  this  event  excited  among  the  Americans. 
They  began  to  flatter  themselves  with  a  still  more  happy  future. 
No  one  any  longer  felt  any  doubt  about  their  achieving  their 
independence.  All  hoped,  and  with  good  reason,  that  a  suc- 
cess of  this  importance  would  at  length  determine  France,  and 
the  other  European  powers  that  waited  for  her  example,  to 
declare  themselves  in  favor  of  America.  "  There  could  no 
longer  be  any  question  respecting  the  future,  since  there  was 
no  longer  the  risk  of  espousing  the  cause  of  a  people  too  feeble 
to  defend  themselves."'^ 

The  truth  of  this  was  soon  displayed  in  the  conduct  of 
France.  When  the  news  arrived  at  Paris  of  the  capture  of  Ti- 
conderoga,  and  of  the  victorious  march  of  Burgoyne  towards 
Albany,  events  which  seemed  decisive  in  favor  of  the  English, 
instructions  had  been  immediately  despatched  to  Nantes,  and 
the  other  ports  of  the  kingdom,  that  no  American  privateers 
should  be  suffered  to  enter  them,  except  from  indispensable 
necessity ;  as  to  repair  their  vessels,  to  obtain  provisions,  or 
to  escape  the  perils  of  the  sea.  The  American  commissioners  at 
Paris,  in  their  disgust  and  despair,  had  almost  broken  ofif  all 
negotiations  with  the  French  government ;  and  they  even  en- 
deavored to  open  communications  with  the  British  ministry. 
But  the  British  government,  elated  with  the  first  successes  of 
Burgoyne,  refused  to  listen  to  any  overtures  for  accommoda- 
tion. But  when  the  news  of  Saratoga  reached  Paris  the  whole 
scene  was  changed.  Franklin  and  his  brother  commissioners 
found  all  their  dilificulties  with  the  French  government  vanish. 
The  time  seemed  to  have  arrived  for  the  house  of  Bourbon  to 
take  a  full  revenge  for  all  its  humiliations  and  losses  in  previous 
wars.  In  December  a  treaty  was  arranged,  and  formally  signed 
in  the  February  following,  by  which  France  acknowledged 
the  Independent  United  States  of  America.  This  was,  of  course, 
tantamount  to  a  declaration  of  war  with  England.  Spain  soon 
followed  France ;  and,  before  long,  Holland  took  the  same 
*  Botta,  book  ix. 


324 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


course.  Largely  aided  by  French  fleets  and  troops,  the  Ameri- 
cans vigorously  maintained  the  war  against  the  armies  which 
England,  in  spite  of  her  European  foes,  continued  to  send 
across  the  Atlantic.  But  the  struggle  was  too  unequal  to  be 
maintained  by  this  country  for  many  years ;  and  when  the 
treaties  of  1783  restored  peace  to  the  world,  the  independence 
of  the  United  States  was  reluctantly  recognized  by  their  an- 
cient parent  and  recent  enemy,  England. 


Synopsis  of  European  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  Bur- 
GOYNE  AT  Saratoga,  1777,  and  the  Battle  of  Valmy, 
1792. 

1782,  Rodney's  victory  over  the  Spanish  fleet.  Unsuccessful 
siege  of  Gibraltar  by  the  Spaniards  and  French. 

1788.  The  States-General  are  convened  in  France;  begin- 
ning of  the  French  Revolution. 

Synopsis  of  Events  in  American  History  between  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  a.d.  1776,  and  the  Bat- 
tle OF  Gettysburg,  a.d.  1863. 

Declaration  of  Independence  of  the  American  Colonies,  July 
4,  1776. 

Independence  of  the  United  States  recognized  by  Great 
Britain  by  treaty  signed  at  Paris,  September  3,  1783. 

The  same  treaty  ratified  by  Congress,  January  4,  1784. 

Second  war  between  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain 
ends  with  the  Treaty  of  Ghent,  which  is  ratified  by  Congress, 
February  17,  18 15. 

Henry  Clay's  "  Missouri  Compromise,"  to  effect  a  modus 
vwendi  between  the  slaveholding  states  and  those  opposed  to 
slavery,  February,  1820. 

Treaty  of  peace  closing  the  war  between  the  United  States 
and  Mexico,  ratified,  May  19,  1848. 

John  Brown's  raid  on  Harper's  Ferry,  Virginia.  October  16, 
1859. 

Abraham  Lincoln,  Republican  candidate,  elected  President 
of  the  United  States  in  succession  to  James  Buchanan,  No- 
vember 6,  i860. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  VALMY,  A.D.  1792. 

"  Purpurei  metuunt  tyranni 

Injurioso  ne  pede  proruas 
Stantem  columnam :  neu  populus  frequens 
Ad  arma  cessantes  ad  arma 
Concitet,  imperiumque  frangat." 

— HoRAT.,  Od.  i.,  35. 
"  A  little  fire  is  quickly  trodden  out, 
Which,  being  suffered,  rivers  cannot  quench." 

— Shakespeare. 

A  FEW  miles  distant  from  the  little  town  of  St.  Mene- 
hould,  in  the  northeast  of  France,  are  the  village  and 
hill  of  Valmy,  and  near  the  crest  of  that  hill  a  simple 
monument  points  out  the  burial-place  of  the  heart  of  a  general 
of  the  French  republic  and  a  marshal  of  the  French  empire. 

The  elder  Kellermann  (father  of  the  distinguished  officer  of 
that  name,  whose  cavalry  charge  decided  the  battle  of  Maren- 
go) held  high  commands  in  the  French  armies  throughout  the 
wars  of  the  Convention,  the  Directory,  the  Consulate,  and  the 
Empire.  He  survived  those  wars,  and  the  empire  itself,  dying 
in  extreme  old  age  in  1820.  The  last  wish  of  the  veteran  on  his 
death-bed  was  that  his  heart  should  be  deposited  in  the  battle- 
field of  Valmy,  there  to  repose  among  the  remains  of  his  old 
companions  in  arms  who  had  fallen  at  his  side  on  that  spot 
twenty-eight  years  before,  on  the  memorable  day  when  they 
won  the  primal  victory  of  Revolutionary  France,  and  prevented 
the  armies  of  Brunswick  and  the  emigrant  bands  of  Conde 
from  marching  on  defenceless  Paris  and  destroying  the  im- 
mature democracy  in  its  cradle. 

The  Duke  of  Valmy  (for  Kellermann,  when  made  one  of 
Napoleon's  military  peers  in  1802,  took  his  title  from  this  same 
battle-field)  had  participated,  during  his  long  and  active  career, 
in  the  gaining  of  many  a  victory  far  more  immediately  dazzling 

325 


326  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

than  the  one  the  remembrance  of  which  he  thus  cherished.  He 
had  been  present  at  many  a  scene  of  carnage,  where  blood 
flowed  in  deluges,  compared  with  which  the  libations  of  slaugh- 
ter poured  out  at  Valmy  would  have  seemed  scant  and  insig- 
nificant. But  he  rightly  estimated  the  paramount  importance 
of  the  battle  with  which  he  thus  wished  his  appellation  while 
living,  and  his  memory  after  his  death,  to  be  identified.  The 
successful  resistance  which  the  raw  Carmagnole  levies  and  the 
disorganized  relics  of  the  old  monarchy's  army  then  opposed  to 
the  combined  hosts  and  chosen  leaders  of  Prussia,  Austria,  and 
the  French  refugee  noblesse,  determined  at  once  and  forever 
the  belligerent  character  of  the  revolution.  The  raw  artisans 
and  tradesmen,  the  clumsy  burghers,  the  base  mechanics,  and 
low  peasant-churls,  as  it  had  been  the  fashion  to  term  the  mid- 
dle and  lower  classes  in  France,  found  that  they  could  face 
cannon-balls,  pull  triggers,  and  cross  bayonets  without  having 
been  drilled  into  military  machines,  and  without  being  officered 
by  scions  of  noble  houses.  They  awoke  to  the  consciousness 
of  their  own  instinctive  soldiership.  They  at  once  acquired 
confidence  in  themselves  and  in  each  other;  and  that  confi- 
dence soon  grew  into  a  spirit  of  unbounded  audacity  and  am- 
bition. "  From  the  cannonade  of  Valmy  may  be  dated  the 
commencement  of  that  career  of  victory  which  carried  their 
armies  to  Vienna  and  the  Kremlin."* 

One  of  the  gravest  reflections  that  arises  from  the  contem- 
plation of  the  civil  restlessness  and  military  enthusiasm  which 
the  close  of  the  last  century  saw  nationalized  in  France,  is  the 
consideration  that  these  disturbing  influences  have  become 
perpetual.  No  settled  system  of  government,  that  shall  en- 
dure from  generation  to  generation,  that  shall  be  proof  against 
corruption  and  popular  violence,  seems  capable  of  taking  root 
among  the  French.  And  every  revolutionary  movement  in 
Paris  thrills  throughout  the  rest  of  the  world.  Even  the  suc- 
cesses which  the  powers  allied  against  France  gained  in  1814 
and  1815,  important  as  they  were,  could  not  annul  the  effects 
of  the  preceding  twenty-three  years  of  general  convulsion  and 
war. 

In  1830,  the  dynasty  which  foreign  bayonets  had  imposed 
on  France  was  shaken  off,  and  men  trembled  at  the  expected 
outbreak  of  French  anarchy  and  the  dreaded  inroads  of  French 

*  Alison. 


THE   BATTLE   OF   VALMY  327 

ambition.  They  "  looked  forward  with  harassing  anxiety  to 
a  period  of  destruction  similar  to  that  which  the  Roman  world 
experienced  about  the  middle  of  the  third  century  of  our  era."* 
Louis  Philippe  cajoled  Revolution,  and  then  strove  with  seem- 
ing success  to  stifle  it.  But,  in  spite  of  Fieschi  laws,  in  spite  of 
the  dazzle  of  Algerian  razzias  and  Pyrenee-effacing  marriages, 
in  spite  of  hundreds  of  armed  forts,  and  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  coercing  troops.  Revolution  lived,  and  struggled  to  get  free. 
The  old  Titan  spirit  heaved  restlessly  beneath  "  the  monarchy 
based  on  republican  institutions."  At  last,  three  years  ago,  the 
whole  fabric  of  kingcraft  was  at  once  rent  and  scattered  to  the 
winds  by  the  uprising  of  the  Parisian  democracy ;  and  insur- 
rections, barricades,  and  dethronements,  the  downfalls  of  coro- 
nets and  crowns,  the  armed  collisions  of  parties,  systems,  and 
populations,  became  the  commonplaces  of  recent  European 
history. 

France  now  calls  herself  a  republic.  She  first  assumed  that 
title  on  the  20th  of  September,  1792,  on  the  very  day  on  which 
the  battle  of  Valmy  was  fought  and  won.  To  that  battle  the 
democratic  spirit  which  in  1848,  as  well  as  in  1792,  proclaimed 
the  Republic  in  Paris,  owed  its  preservation,  and  it  is  thence 
that  the  imperishable  activity  of  its  principles  may  be  dated. 

Far  different  seemed  the  prospects  of  democracy  in  Europe 
on  the  eve  of  that  battle,  and  far  different  would  have  been 
the  present  position  and  influence  of  the  French  nation,  if 
Brunswick's  columns  had  charged  with  more  boldness,  or  the 
lines  of  Dumouriez  resisted  with  less  firmness.  When  France, 
in  1792,  declared  war  with  the  great  powers  of  Europe,  she  was 
far  from  possessing  that  splendid  military  organization  which 
the  experience  of  a  few  revolutionary  campaigns  taught  her 
to  assume,  and  which  she  has  never  abandoned.  The  army 
of  the  old  monarchy  had,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of 
Louis  XV.,  sunk  into  gradual  decay,  both  in  numerical  force 
and  in  efficiency  of  equipment  and  spirit.  The  laurels  gained 
by  the  auxiliary  regiments  which  Louis  XVL  sent  to  the 
American  war,  did  but  little  to  restore  the  general  tone  of  the 
army.  The  insubordination  and  license  which  the  revolt  of  the 
French  guards,  and  the  participation  of  other  troops  in  many 
of  the  first  excesses  of  the  Revolution,  introduced  among  the 

*  See  Niebuhr's  Preface  to  the  second  volume  of  the  History  of 
Rome,  written  in  October,  1830. 


328  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

soldiery,  were  soon  rapidly  disseminated  through  all  the  ranks. 
Under  the  Legislative  Assembly  every  complaint  of  the  soldier 
against  his  officer,  however  frivolous  or  ill-founded,  was  lis- 
tened to  with  eagerness,  and  investigated  with  partiality,  on  the 
principles  of  liberty  and  equality.  Discipline  accordingly  be- 
came more  and  more  relaxed ;  and  the  dissolution  of  several 
of  the  old  corps,  under  the  pretext  of  their  being  tainted  with 
an  aristocratic  feeling,  aggravated  the  confusion  and  ineffi- 
ciency of  the  war  department.  Many  of  the  most  effective  regi- 
ments during  the  last  period  of  the  monarchy  had  consisted 
of  foreigners.  These  had  either  been  slaughtered  in  defence 
of  the  throne  against  insurrections,  like  the  Swiss,  or  had  been 
disbanded,  and  had  crossed  the  frontier  to  recruit  the  forces 
which  were  assembled  for  the  invasion  of  France.  Above  all, 
the  emigration  of  the  noblesse  had  stripped  the  French  army 
of  nearly  all  its  officers  of  high  rank,  and  of  the  greatest  portion 
of  its  subalterns.  Above  twelve  thousand  of  the  high-born 
youth  of  France,  who  had  been  trained  to  regard  military  com- 
mand as  their  exclusive  patrimony,  and  to  whom  the  nation 
had  been  accustomed  to  look  up  as  its  natural  guides  and 
champions  in  the  storm  of  war,  were  now  marshalled  beneath 
the  banner  of  Conde  and  the  other  emigrant  princes  for  the 
overthrow  of  the  French  armies  and  the  reduction  of  the 
French  capital.  Their  successors  in  the  French  regiments  and 
brigades  had  as  yet  acquired  neither  skill  nor  experience  ;  they 
possessed  neither  self-reliance,  nor  the  respect  of  the  men  who 
were  under  them. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  wrecks  of  the  old  army ;  but  the 
bulk  of  the  forces  with  which  France  began  the  war  consisted 
of  raw  insurrectionary  levies,  which  were  even  less  to  be  de- 
pended on.  The  Carmagnoles,  as  the  revolutionary  volunteers 
were  called,  flocked,  indeed,  readily  to  the  frontier  from  every 
department  when  the  war  was  proclaimed,  and  the  fierce  lead- 
ers of  the  Jacobins  shouted  that  the  country  was  in  danger. 
They  were  full  of  zeal  and  courage,  "  heated  and  excited  by  the 
scenes  of  the  Revolution,  and  inflamed  by  the  florid  eloquence, 
the  songs,  dances,  and  signal-words  with  which  it  had  been 
celebrated."*  But  they  were  utterly  undisciplined,  and  turbu- 
lently  impatient  of  superior  authority  or  systematic  control. 
Many  ruffians,  also,  who  were  sullied  with  participation  in  the 
*  Scott,  "  Life  of  Napoleon,"  vol.  i.,  c.  viii. 


THE   BATTLE   OF   VALMY 


329 


most  sanguinary  horrors  of  Paris,  joined  the  camps,  and  were 
pre-eminent  aUke  for  misconduct  before  the  enemy  and  for 
savage  insubordination  against  their  own  ofBcers.  On  one  oc- 
casion during  the  campaign  of  Valmy,  eight  battaHons  of 
federates,  intoxicated  with  massacre  and  sedition,  joined  the 
forces  under  Dumouriez,  and  soon  threatened  to  uproot  all  dis- 
cipline, saying  openly  that  the  ancient  officers  were  traitors, 
and  that  it  was  necessary  to  purge  the  army,  as  they  had  Paris, 
of  its  aristocrats.  Dumouriez  posted  these  battalions  apart 
from  the  others,  placed  a  strong  force  of  cavalry  behind  them, 
and  two  pieces  of  cannon  on  their  flank.  Then,  affecting  to 
review  them,  he  halted  at  the  head  of  the  line,  surrounded  by 
all  his  staff,  and  an  escort  of  a  hundred  hussars.  "  Fellows," 
said  he,  "  for  I  will  not  call  you  either  citizens  or  soldiers,  you 
see  before  you  this  artillery,  behind  you  this  cavalry ;  you  are 
stained  with  crimes,  and  I  do  not  tolerate  here  assassins  or 
executioners.  I  know  that  there  are  scoundrels  among  you 
charged  to  excite  you  to  crime.  Drive  them  from  among  you, 
or  denounce  them  to  me,  for  I  shall  hold  you  responsible  for 
their  conduct."  * 

One  of  our  recent  historians  of  the  Revolution,  who  nar- 
rates this  incident,!  thus  apostrophizes  the  French  general: 

"  Patience,  O  Dumouriez !  this  uncertain  heap  of  shriekers, 
mutineers,  were  they  once  drilled  and  inured,  will  become  a 
phalanxed  mass  of  fighters ;  and  wheel  and  whirl  to  order 
swiftly,  like  the  wind  or  the  whirlwind ;  tanned  mustachio- 
figures,  often  barefoot,  even  bare-backed,  with  sinews  of  iron, 
who  require  only  bread  and  gunpowder ;  very  sons  of  fire,  the 
adroitest,  hastiest,  hottest  ever  seen,  perhaps,  since  Attila's 
time." 

Such  phalanxed  masses  of  fighters  did  the  Carmagnoles  ulti- 
mately become ;  but  France  ran  a  fearful  risk  in  being  obliged 
to  rely  on  them  when  the  process  of  their  transmutation  had 
barely  commenced. 

The  first  events,  indeed,  of  the  war  were  disastrous  and  dis- 
graceful to  France,  even  beyond  what  might  have  been  ex- 
pected from  the  chaotic  state  in  which  it  found  her  armies  as 
well  as  her  government.  In  the  hopes  of  profiting  by  the  un- 
prepared state  of  Austria,  then  the  mistress  of  the  Netherlands, 
the  French  opened  the  campaign  of  1792  by  an  invasion  of 
*  Lamartine.  t  Carlyle. 


330  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Flanders,  with  forces  whose  muster-rolls  showed  a  numerical 
overwhelming  superiority  to  the  enemy,  and  seemed  to  promise 
a  speedy  conquest  of  that  old  battle-field  of  Europe.  But  the 
first  flash  of  an  Austrian  sabre,  or  the  first  sound  of  an  Austrian 
gun,  was  enough  to  discomfit  the  French.  Their  first  corps, 
four  thousand  strong,  that  advanced  from  Lille  across  the  fron- 
tier, came  suddenly  upon  a  far  inferior  detachment  of  the  Aus- 
trian garrison  of  Tournay.  Not  a  shot  was  fired,  nor  a  bayonet 
levelled.  With  one  simultaneous  cry  of  panic,  the  French  broke 
and  ran  headlong  back  to  Lille,  where  they  completed  the 
specimen  of  insubordination  which  they  had  given  in  the  field 
by  murdering  their  general  and  several  of  their  chief  officers. 
On  the  same  day,  another  division  under  Biron,  mustering  ten 
thousand  sabres  and  bayonets,  saw  a  few  Austrian  skirmishers 
reconnoitring  their  position.  The  French  advanced  posts 
had  scarcely  given  and  received  a  volley,  and  only  a  few  balls 
from  the  enemy's  field-pieces  had  fallen  among  the  lines,  when 
two  regiments  of  French  dragoons  raised  the  cry  "  We  are  be- 
trayed," galloped  ofif,  and  were  followed  in  disgraceful  rout 
by  the  rest  of  the  whole  army.  Similar  panics,  or  repulses  al- 
most equally  discreditable,  occurred  whenever  Rochambeau, 
or  Liickner,  or  Lafayette,  the  earliest  French  generals  in  the 
war,  brought  their  troops  into  the  presence  of  the  enemy. 

Meanwhile  the  allied  sovereigns  had  gradually  collected  on 
the  Rhine  a  veteran  and  finely-disciplined  army  for  the  inva- 
sion of  France,  which  for  numbers,  equipment,  and  martial 
renown,  both  of  generals  and  men,  was  equal  to  any  that  Ger- 
many had  ever  sent  forth  to  conquer.  Their  design  was  to 
strike  boldly  and  decisively  at  the  heart  of  France,  and,  pene- 
trating the  country  through  the  Ardennes,  to  proceed  by  Cha- 
lons upon  Paris.  The  obstacles  that  lay  in  their  way  seemed 
insignificant.  The  disorder  and  imbecility  of  the  French  armies 
had  been  even  augmented  by  the  forced  flight  of  Lafayette 
and  a  sudden  change  of  generals.  The  only  troops  posted  on 
or  near  the  track  by  which  the  allies  were  about  to  advance 
were  the  23,000  men  at  Sedan,  whom  Lafayette  had  com- 
manded, and  a  corps  of  20,000  near  Metz,  the  command  of 
which  had  just  been  transferred  from  Liickner  to  Kellermann. 
There  were  only  three  fortresses  which  it  was  necessary  for 
the  allies  to  capture  or  mask — Sedan,  Longwy,  and  Verdun. 
The  defences  and  stores  of  all  these  three  were  known  to  be 


THE   BATTLE    OF   VALMY  331 

wretchedly  dismantled  and  insufficient ;  and  when  once  these 
feeble  barriers  were  overcome  and  Chalons  reached,  a  fertile 
and  unprotected  country  seemed  to  invite  the  invaders  to  that 
"  military  promenade  to  Paris  "  which  they  gayly  talked  of 
accomplishing. 

At  the  end  of  July,  the  allied  army,  having  fully  completed 
all  preparations  for  the  campaign,  broke  up  from  its  canton- 
ments, and,  marching  from  Luxembourg  upon  Longwy, 
crossed  the  French  frontier.  Sixty  thousand  Prussians,  trained 
in  the  schools,  and  many  of  them  under  the  eye  of  the  Great 
Frederick,  heirs  of  the  glories  of  the  Seven  Years'  War,  and  uni- 
versally esteemed  the  best  troops  in  Europe,  marched  in  one 
column  against  the  central  point  of  attack.  Forty-five  thou- 
sand Austrians,  the  greater  part  of  whom  were  picked  troops, 
and  had  served  in  the  recent  Turkish  war,  supplied  two  formi- 
dable corps  that  supported  the  flanks  of  the  Prussians.  There 
was  also  a  powerful  body  of  Hessians ;  and  leagued  with  the 
Germans  against  the  Parisian  democracy  came  15,000  of  the 
noblest  and  the  bravest  among  the  sons  of  France.  In  these 
corps  of  emigrants,  many  of  the  highest  born  of  the  French 
nobility,  scions  of  houses  whose  chivalric  trophies  had  for 
centuries  filled  Europe  with  renown,  served  as  rank  and  file. 
They  looked  on  the  road  to  Paris  as  the  path  which  they  were 
to  carve  out  by  their  swords  to  victory,  to  honor,  to  the  rescue 
of  their  king,  to  reunion  with  their  families,  to  the  recovery  of 
their  patrimony,  and  to  the  restoration  of  their  order.* 

Over  this  imposing  army  the  allied  sovereigns  placed  as 
generalissimo  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  one  of  the  minor  reign- 
ing princes  of  Germany,  a  statesman  of  no  mean  capacity,  and 
who  had  acquired  in  the  Seven  Years'  War  a  military  reputa- 
tion second  only  to  that  of  the  Great  Frederick  himself.  He  had 
been  deputed  a  few  years  before  to  quell  the  popular  move- 
ments which  then  took  place  in  Holland,  and  he  had  put  down 
the  attempted  revolution  in  that  country  with  a  promptitude 
which  appeared  to  augur  equal  success  to  the  army  that  now 
marched  under  his  orders  on  a  similar  mission  into  France. 

Moving  majestically   forward,   with   leisurely   deliberation, 

that  seemed  to  show  the  consciousness  of  superior  strength, 

and  a  steady  purpose  of  doing  their  work  thoroughly,  the  allies 

appeared  before  Longwy  on  the  20th  of  August,  and  the  dispir- 

*  See  Scott,  "  Life  of  Napoleon,"  vol.  i.,  c.  xi. 


334  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

ited  and  despondent  garrison  opened  the  gates  of  that  fortress 
to  them  after  the  first  shower  of  bombs.  On  the  2d  of  Septem- 
ber, the  still  more  important  stronghold  of  Verdun  capitulated 
after  scarcely  the  shadow  of  resistance. 

Brunswick's  superior  force  was  now  interposed  between 
Kellermann's  troops  on  the  left  and  the  other  French  army  near 
Sedan,  which  Lafayette's  flight  had,  for  the  time,  left  destitute 
of  a  commander.  It  was  in  the  power  of  the  German  general, 
by  striking  with  an  overwhelming  mass  to  the  right  and  left, 
to  crush  in  succession  each  of  these  weak  armies,  and  the  allies 
might  then  have  marched  irresistible  and  unresisted  upon 
Paris.  But  at  this  crisis  Dumouriez,  the  new  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  French,  arrived  at  the  camp  near  Sedan,  and  com- 
menced a  series  of  movements  by  which  he  reunited  the  dis- 
persed and  disorganized  forces  of  his  country,  checked  the 
Prussian  columns  at  the  very  moment  when  the  last  obstacles 
to  their  triumph  seemed  to  have  given  way,  and  finally  rolled 
back  the  tide  of  invasion  far  across  the  enemy's  frontier. 

The  French  fortresses  had  fallen ;  but  nature  herself  still 
offered  to  brave  and  vigorous  defenders  of  the  land  the  means 
of  opposing  a  barrier  to  the  progress  of  the  allies.  A  ridge  of 
broken  ground,  called  the  Argonne,  extends  from  the  vicinity 
of  Sedan  towards  the  southwest  for  about  fifteen  or  sixteen 
leagues.  The  country  of  L'Argonne  has  now  been  cleared 
and  drained ;  but  in  1792  it  was  thickly  wooded,  and  the  lower 
portions  of  its  unequal  surface  were  filled  with  rivulets  and 
marshes.  It  thus  presented  a  natural  barrier  of  from  four  to 
five  leagues  broad  which  was  absolutely  impenetrable  to  an 
army,  except  by  a  few  defiles,  such  as  an  inferior  force  might 
easily  fortify  and  defend.  Dumouriez  succeeded  in  marching 
his  army  down  from  Sedan  behind  the  Argonne,  and  in  occupy- 
ing its  passes,  while  the  Prussians  still  lingered  on  the  north- 
eastern side  of  the  forest  line.  Ordering  Kellermann  to  wheel 
round  from  Metz  to  St.  Menehould  and  the  re-enforcements 
from  the  interior  and  the  extreme  north  also  to  concentrate  at 
that  spot,  Dumouriez  trusted  to  assemble  a  powerful  force  in 
the  rear  of  the  southwest  extremity  of  the  Argonne,  while  with 
the  twenty-five  thousand  men  under  his  immediate  command 
he  held  the  enemy  at  bay  before  the  passes,  or  forced  him  to  a 
long  circumvolution  round  one  extremity  of  the  forest  ridge, 
during  which,  favorable  opportunities  of  assailing  his  flank 


THE   BATTLE   OF   VALMY  333 

were  almost  certain  to  occur.  Dumouriez  fortified  the  principal 
defiles,  and  boasted  of  the  Thermopylae  which  he  had  found  for 
the  invaders ;  but  the  simile  was  nearly  rendered  fatally  com- 
plete for  the  defending  force.  A  pass,  which  was  thought  of 
inferior  importance,  had  been  but  slightly  manned,  and  an 
Austrian  corps,  under  Clairfayt,  forced  it  after  some  sharp 
fighting.  Dumouriez  with  great  difficulty  saved  himself  from 
being  enveloped  and  destroyed  by  the  hostile  columns  that  now 
pushed  through  the  forest.  But  instead  of  despairing  at  the 
failure  of  his  plans,  and  falling  back  into  the  interior,  to  be 
completely  severed  from  Kellermann's  army,  to  be  hunted  as 
a  fugitive  under  the  walls  of  Paris  by  the  victorious  Germans, 
and  to  lose  all  chance  of  ever  rallying  his  dispirited  troops,  he 
resolved  to  cling  to  the  difficult  country  in  which  the  armies 
still  were  grouped,  to  force  a  junction  with  Kellermann,  and  so 
to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  a  force  which  the  invaders  would 
not  dare  to  disregard,  and  by  which  he  might  drag  them  back 
from  the  advance  on  Paris,  which  he  had  not  been  able  to  bar. 
Accordingly,  by  a  rapid  movement  to  the  south,  during  which, 
in  his  own  words,  "  France  was  within  a  hair's  breadth  of  de- 
struction," and  after  with  difificulty  checking  several  panics  of 
his  troops,  in  which  they  ran  by  thousands  at  the  sight  of  a  few 
Prussian  hussars,  Dumouriez  succeeded  in  establishing  his 
head-quarters  in  a  strong  position  at  St.  Menehould,  protected 
by  the  marshes  and  shallows  of  the  rivers  Aisne  and  Aube,  be- 
yond which,  to  the  northwest,  rose  a  firm  and  elevated  plateau, 
called  Dampierre's  camp,  admirably  situated  for  commanding 
the  road  by  Chalons  to  Paris,  and  where  he  intended  to  post 
Kellermann's  army  so  soon  as  it  came  up.* 

The  news  of  the  retreat  of  Dumouriez  from  the  Argonne 
passes,  and  of  the  panic  flight  of  some  divisions  of  his  troops, 
spread  rapidly  throughout  the  country,  and  Kellermann,  who 
beHeved  that  his  comrade's  army  had  been  annihilated,  and 
feared  to  fall  among  the  victorious  masses  of  the  Prussians, 
had  halted  on  his  march  from  Metz  when  almost  close  to  St. 
Menehould.  He  had  actually  commenced  a  retrograde  move- 
ment, when  couriers  from  his  commander-in-chief  checked  him 
from  that  fatal  course  ;  and  then  continuing  to  wheel  round  the 

*  Some  late  writers  represent  that  Brunswick  did  not  wish  to  crush 
Dumouriez.  There  is  no  sufficient  authority  for  this  in=iniiation,  which 
seems  to  have  been  first  prompted  by  a  desire  to  soothe  the  wounded 
military  pride  of  the  Prussians. 


334  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

rear  and  left  flank  of  the  troops  at  St.  Menehould,  Kellerman, 
with  twenty  thousand  of  the  army  of  Metz,  and  some  thousands 
of  volunteers,  who  had  joined  him  in  the  march,  made  his  ap- 
pearance to  the  west  of  Dumouriez  on  the  very  evening  when 
Westerman  and  Thouvenot,  two  of  the  staff-officers  of  Du- 
mouriez, galloped  in  with  the  tidings  that  Brunswick's  army 
had  come  through  the  upper  passes  of  the  Argonne  in  full  force, 
and  was  deploying  on  the  heights  of  La  Lune,  a  chain  of  emi- 
nences that  stretch  obliquely  from  southwest  to  northeast,  op- 
posite the  high  ground  which  Dumouriez  held,  and  also  op- 
posite but  at  a  shorter  distance  from  the  position  which  Kel- 
lermann  was  designed  to  occupy. 

The  allies  were  now,  in  fact,  nearer  to  Paris  than  were  the 
French  troops  themselves ;  but,  as  Dumouriez  had  foreseen, 
Brunswick  deemed  it  unsafe  to  march  upon  the  capital  with 
so  large  a  hostile  force  left  in  his  rear  between  his  advancing 
columns  and  his  base  of  operations.  The  young  King  of  Prus- 
sia, who  was  in  the  allied  camp,  and  the  emigrant  princes, 
eagerly  advocated  an  instant  attack  upon  the  nearest  French 
general.  Kellermann  had  laid  himself  unnecessarily  open,  by 
advancing  beyond  Dampierre's  camp,  which  Dumouriez  had 
designed  for  him,  and  moving  forward  across  the  Aube  to  the 
plateau  of  Valmy,  a  post  inferior  in  strength  and  space  to  that 
which  he  had  left,  and  which  brought  him  close  upon  the  Prus- 
sian lines,  leaving  him  separated  by  a  dangerous  interval  from 
the  troops  under  Dumouriez  himself.  It  seemed  easy  for  the 
Prussian  army  to  overwhelm  him  while  thus  isolated,  and  then 
they  might  surround  and  crush  Dumouriez  at  their  leisure. 

Accordingly,  the  right  wing  of  the  allied  army  moved  for- 
ward in  the  gray  of  the  morning  of  the  20th  of  September  to 
gain  Kellermann's  left  flank  and  rear,  and  cut  him  off  from  re- 
treat upon  Chalons,  while  the  rest  of  the  army,  moving  from 
the  heights  of  La  Lune,  which  here  converge  semi-circularly 
round  the  plateau  of  Valmy,  were  to  assail  his  position  in  front, 
and  interpose  between  him  and  Dumouriez.  An  unexpected 
collision  between  some  of  the  advanced  cavalry  on  each  side 
in  the  low  ground  warned  Kellermann  of  the  enemy's  approach. 
Dumouriez  had  not  been  unobservant  of  the  danger  of  his  com- 
rade, thus  isolated  and  involved,  and  he  had  ordered  up  troops 
to  support  Kellermann  on  either  flank  in  the  event  of  his  being 
attacked.    These  troops,  however,  moved  forward  slowly  ;  and 


THE   BATTLE   OF   VALMY  335 

Kellermann's  army  ranged  on  the  plateau  of  Valmy  "  projected 
like  a  cape  into  the  midst  of  the  lines  of  the  Prussian  bayo- 
nets."* A  thick  autumnal  mist  floated  in  waves  of  vapor  over 
the  plains  and  ravines  that  lay  between  the  two  armies,  leaving 
only  the  crests  and  peaks  of  the  hills  glittering  in  the  early 
light.  About  ten  o'clock  the  fog  began  to  clear  off,  and  then 
the  French  from  their  promontory  saw  emerging  from  the  white 
wreaths  of  mist,  and  glittering  in  the  sunshine,  the  countless 
Prussian  cavalry,  which  were  to  envelop  them  as  in  a  net  if 
once  driven  from  their  position,  the  solid  columns  of  the  in- 
fantry, that  moved  forward  as  if  animated  by  a  single  will,  the 
bristling  batteries  of  the  artillery,  and  the  glancing  clouds  of 
the  Austrian  light  troops,  fresh  from  their  contests  with  the 
Spahis  of  the  east. 

The  best  and  bravest  of  the  French  must  have  beheld  this 
spectacle  with  secret  apprehension  and  awe.  However  bold 
and  resolute  a  man  may  be  in  the  discharge  of  duty,  it  is  an 
anxious  and  fearful  thing  to  be  called  on  to  encounter  danger 
among  comrades  of  whose  steadiness  you  can  fell  no  certainty. 
Each  soldier  of  Kellermann's  army  must  have  remembered  the 
series  of  panic  routs  which  had  hitherto  invariably  taken  place 
on  the  French  side  during  the  war,  and  must  have  cast  restless 
glances  to  the  right  and  left,  to  see  is  any  symptoms  of  waver- 
ing began  to  show  themselves,  and  to  calculate  how  long  it  was 
likely  to  be  before  a  general  rush  of  his  comrades  to  the  rear 
would  either  hurry  him  off  with  involuntary  disgrace,  or  leave 
him  alone  and  helpless  to  be  cut  down  by  assailing  multitudes. 

On  that  very  morning,  and  at  the  self-same  hour  in  which 
the  allied  forces  and  the  emigrants  began  to  descend  from  La 
Lune  at  the  attack  of  Valmy,  and  while  the  cannonade  was 
opening  between  the  Prussian  and  Revolutionary  batteries, 
the  debate  in  the  National  Convention  at  Paris  commenced  on 
the  proposal  to  proclaim  France  a  republic. 

The  old  monarchy  had  little  chance  of  support  in  the  hall  of 
the  Convention ;  but  if  its  more  effective  advocates  at  Valmy 
had  triumphed,  there  were  yet  the  elements  existing  in  France 
for  an  effective  revival  of  the  better  part  of  the  ancient  institu- 
tions, and  for  substituting  Reform  for  Revolution.  Only  a 
few  weeks  before,  numerously  signed  addresses  from  the  mid- 

*  See  Lamartine,  Hist.  Girond.,  livre  xvii.  I  have  drawn  much  of 
the  ensuing  description  from  him. 


336  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

die  classes  in  Paris,  Rouen,  and  other  large  cities  had  been 
presented  to  the  king  expressive  of  their  horror  of  the  anar- 
chists, and  their  readiness  to  uphold  the  rights  of  the  crown,  to- 
gether with  the  liberties  of  the  subject.  And  an  armed  resist- 
ance to  the  authority  of  the  Convention,  and  in  favor  of  the 
king,  was  in  reality  at  this  time  being  actively  organized  in  La 
Vendee  and  Brittany,  the  importance  of  which  may  be  esti- 
mated from  the  formidable  opposition  which  the  Royalists  of 
these  provinces  made  to  the  Republican  party  at  a  later  period, 
and  under  much  more  disadvantageous  circumstances.  It  is 
a  fact  peculiarly  illustrative  of  the  importance  of  the  battle  of 
Valmy,  that  "  during  the  summer  of  1792  the  gentlemen  of 
Brittany  entered  into  an  extensive  association  for  the  purpose 
of  rescuing  the  country  from  the  oppressive  yoke  which  had 
been  imposed  by  the  Parisian  demagogues.  At  the  head  of  the 
whole  was  the  Marquis  de  la  Rouarie,  one  of  those  remarkable 
men  who  rise  into  eminence  during  the  storm.y  days  of  a 
revolution,  from  conscious  ability  to  direct  its  current.  Ardent, 
impetuous,  and  enthusiastic,  he  was  first  distinguished  in  the 
American  war,  when  the  intrepidity  of  his  conduct  attracted 
the  admiration  of  the  republican  troops,  and  the  same  qualities 
rendered  him  at  first  an  ardent  supporter  of  the  Revolution  in 
France;  but  when  the  atrocities  of  the  people  began,  he  es- 
poused with  equal  warmth  the  opposite  side,  and  used  the 
utmost  efiforts  to  rouse  the  noblesse  of  Brittany  against  the 
plebeian  yoke  which  had  been  imposed  upon  them  by  the 
National  Assembly.  He  submitted  his  plan  to  the  Count 
d'Artois,  and  had  organized  one  so  extensive  as  would  have 
proved  extremely  formidable  to  the  Convention,  if  the  retreat 
of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  in  September,  1792,  had  not  damped 
the  ardor  of  the  whole  of  the  west  of  France,  then  ready  to 
break  out  into  insurrection."* 

And  it  was  not  only  among  the  zealots  of  the  old  monarchy 
that  the  cause  of  the  king  would  then  have  found  friends.  The 
ineffable  atrocities  of  the  September  massacres  had  just  oc- 
curred, and  the  reaction  produced  by  them  among  thousands 
who  had  previously  been  active  on  the  ultra-democratic  side 
was  fresh  and  powerful.  The  nobility  had  not  yet  been  made 
utter  aliens  in  the  eyes  of  the  nation  by  long  expatriation  and 
civil  war.  There  was  not  yet  a  generation  of  youth  educated 
*  Alison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  ;i2S. 


THE   BATTLE   OF   VALMY 


337 


in  revolutionary  principles,  and  knowing  no  worship  save  that 
of  military  glory.  Louis  XVI.  was  just  and  humane,  and 
deeply  sensible  of  the  necessity  of  a  gradual  extension  of  polit- 
ical rights  among  all  classes  of  his  subjects.  The  Bourbon 
throne,  if  rescued  in  1792,  would  have  had  the  chances  of  sta- 
bility such  as  did  not  exist  for  it  in  1814,  and  seem  never  likely 
to  be  found  again  in  France. 

Serving  under  Kellermann  on  that  day  was  one  who  experi- 
enced, perhaps  the  most  deeply  of  all  men,  the  changes  for 
good  and  for  evil  which  the  French  Revolution  has  produced. 
He  who,  in  his  second  exile,  bore  the  name  of  the  Count  de 
Neuilly  in  this  country,  and  who  lately  was  Louis  Philippe, 
king  of  the  French,  figured  in  the  French  lines  at  Valmy  as  a 
young  and  gallant  officer,  cool  and  sagacious  beyond  his  years, 
and  trusted  accordingly  by  Kellermann  and  Dumouriez  with 
an  important  station  in  the  national  army.  The  Due  de 
Chartres  (the  title  he  then  bore)  commanded  the  French  right. 
General  Valence  was  on  the  left,  and  Kellerman  himself  took 
his  post  in  the  centre,  which  was  the  strength  and  key  of  his 
position. 

Besides  these  celebrated  men  who  were  in  the  French  army, 
and  besides  the  King  of  Prussia,  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  and 
other  men  of  rank  and  power  who  were  in  the  lines  of  the 
allies,  there  was  an  individual  present  at  the  battle  of  Valmy, 
of  little  political  note,  but  who  has  exercised,  and  exercises, 
a  greater  influence  over  the  human  mind,  and  whose  fame  is 
more  widely  spread  than  that  of  either  duke,  or  general,  or 
king.  This  was  the  German  poet  Goethe,  then  in  early  youth, 
and  who  had,  out  of  curiosity,  accompanied  the  allied  army  on 
its  march  into  France  as  a  mere  spectator.  He  has  given  us 
a  curious  record  of  the  sensations  which  he  experienced  dur- 
ing the  cannonade.  It  must  be  remembered  that  many  thou- 
sands in  the  French  ranks  then,  like  Goethe,  felt  the  "  cannon 
fever  "  for  the  first  time.    The  German  poet  says  :* 

"  I  had  heard  so  much  of  the  cannon  fever,  that  I  wanted 
to  know  what  kind  of  thing  it  was.  Ennui,  and  a  spirit  which 
every  kind  of  danger  excites  to  daring,  nay,  even  to  rashness, 
induced  me  to  ride  up  quite  coolly  to  the  outwork  of  La  Lune. 
This  was  again  occupied  by  our  people ;  but  it  presented  the 
wildest  aspect.    The  roofs  were  shot  to  pieces,  the  corn-shocks 

*  Goethe's  "  Campaign  in  France  in  1792,"  Farie's  translation,  p.  77. 
22 


338  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

scattered  about,  the  bodies  of  men  mortally  wounded  stretched 
upon  them  here  and  there,  and  occasionally  a  spent  cannon-ball 
fell  and  rattled  among  the  ruins  of  the  tile  roofs. 

"  Quite  alone,  and  left  to  myself,  I  rode  away  on  the  heights 
to  the  left,  and  could  plainly  survey  the  favorable  position  of 
the  French ;  they  were  standing  in  the  form  of  a  semicircle, 
in  the  greatest  quiet  and  security,  Kellermann,  then  on  the  left 
wing,  being  the  easiest  to  reach. 

"  I  fell  in  with  good  company  on  the  way,  ofificers  of  my 
acquaintance,  belonging  to  the  general  staff  and  the  regiment, 
greatly  surprised  to  find  me  here.  They  wanted  to  take  me 
back  again  with  them ;  but  I  spoke  to  them  of  particular  ob- 
jects I  had  in  view,  and  they  left  me,  without  further  dissuasion, 
to  my  well-known  singular  caprice. 

"  I  had  now  arrived  quite  in  the  region  where  the  balls  were 
playing  across  me :  the  sound  of  them  is  curious  enough,  as  if 
it  were  composed  of  the  humming  of  tops,  the  gurgling  of 
water,  and  the  whistling  of  birds.  They  were  less  dangerous 
by  reason  of  the  wetness  of  the  ground ;  wherever  one  fell,  it 
stuck  fast.  And  thus  my  foolish  experimental  ride  was  secured 
against  the  danger  at  least  of  the  balls  rebounding. 

"  In  the  midst  of  these  circumstances,  I  was  soon  able  to 
remark  that  something  unusual  was  taking  place  within  me.  I 
paid  close  attention  to  it,  and  still  the  sensation  can  be  described 
only  by  similitude.  It  appeared  as  if  you  were  in  some  ex- 
tremely hot  place,  and,  at  the  same  time,  quite  penetrated  by 
the  heat  of  it,  so  that  you  feel  yourself,  as  it  were,  quite  one 
with  the  element  in  which  you  are.  The  eyes  lose  nothing  of 
their  strength  or  clearness ;  but  it  is  as  if  the  world  had  a  kind 
of  brown-red  tint,  which  makes  the  situation,  as  well  as  the 
surrounding  objects,  more  impressive.  I  was  unable  to  per- 
ceive any  agitation  of  the  blood  ;  but  everything  seemed  rather 
to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  glow  of  which  I  speak.  From  this, 
then,  it  is  clear  in  what  sense  this  condition  can  be  called  a 
fever.  It  is  remarkable,  however,  that  the  horrible  uneasy  feel- 
ing arising  from  it  is  produced  in  us  solely  through  the  ears. 
For  the  cannon  thunder,  the  howling  and  crashing  of  the  balls 
through  the  air,  is  the  real  cause  of  these  sensations. 

"  After  I  had  ridden  back  and  was  in  perfect  security,  I 
remarked,  with  surprise,  that  the  glow  was  completely  extin- 
guished, and  not  the  slightest  feverish  agitation  was  left  be- 


THE   BATTLE   OF   VALMY 


339 


hind.  On  the  whole,  this  condition  is  one  of  the  least  desir- 
able ;  as,  indeed,  among  my  dear  and  noble  comrades,  I  found 
scarcely  one  who  expressed  a  really  passionate  desire  to  try 
it." 

Contrary  to  the  expectations  of  both  friends  and  foes,  the 
French  infantry  held  their  ground  steadily  under  the  fire  of 
the  Prussian  guns,  which  thundered  on  them  from  La  Lune, 
and  their  own  artillery  replied  with  equal  spirit  and  greater 
effect  on  the  denser  masses  of  the  allied  army.  Thinking  that 
the  Prussians  were  slackening  in  their  fire,  Kellermann  formed 
a  column  in  charging  order,  and  dashed  down  into  the  valley 
in  the  hopes  of  capturing  some  of  the  nearest  guns  of  the  en- 
emy. A  masked  battery  opened  its  fire  on  the  French  column, 
and  drove  it  back  in  disorder,  Kellermann  having  his  horse  shot 
under  him,  and  being  with  difificulty  carried  off  by  his  men. 
The  Prussian  columns  now  advanced  in  turn.  The  French  ar- 
tillery-men began  to  waver  and  desert  their  posts,  but  were 
rallied  by  the  efforts  and  example  of  their  officers,  and  Keller- 
mann, reorganizing  the  line  of  his  infantry,  took  his  station  in 
the  ranks  on  foot,  and  called  out  to  his  men  to  let  the  enemy 
come  close  up,  and  then  to  charge  them  with  the  bayonet.  The 
troops  caught  the  enthusiasm  of  their  general,  and  a  cheerful 
shout  of  Vive  la  nation,  taken  up  by  one  battalion  from  another, 
pealed  across  the  valley  to  the  assailants.  The  Prussians  hesi- 
tated from  a  charge  up  hill  against  a  force  that  seemed  so 
resolute  and  formidable  ;  they  halted  for  a  while  in  the  hollow, 
and  then  slowly  retreated  up  their  own  side  of  the  valley. 

Indignant  at  being  thus  repulsed  by  such  a  foe,  the  King  of 
Prussia  formed  the  flower  of  his  men  in  person,  and,  riding 
along  the  column,  bitterly  reproached  them  with  letting  their 
standard  be  thus  humiliated.  Then  he  led  them  on  again  to  the 
attack,  marching  in  the  front  line,  and  seeing  his  staff  mowed 
down  around  him  by  the  deadly  fire  which  the  French  artillery 
reopened.  But  the  troops  sent  by  Dumouriez  were  now  co- 
operating effectually  with  Kellerman,  and  that  general's  own 
men,  flushed  by  success,  presented  a  firmer  front  than  ever. 
Again  the  Prussians  retreated,  leaving  eight  hundred  dead  be- 
hind, and  at  nightfall  the  French  remained  victors  on  the 
heights  of  Valmy. 

All  hopes  of  crushing  the  Revolutionary  armies,  and  of  the 
promenade  to  Paris,  had  now  vanished,  though  Brunswick 


34° 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


lingered  long  in  the  Argonne,  till  distress  and  sickness  wasted 
away  his  once  splendid  force,  and  finally  but  a  mere  wreck  of 
it  recrossed  the  frontier.  France,  meanwhile,  felt  that  she  pos- 
sessed a  giant's  strength,  and  like  a  giant  did  she  use  it.  Before 
the  close  of  that  year  all  Belgium  obeyed  the  National  Con- 
vention at  Paris,  and  the  kings  of  Europe,  after  the  lapse  of 
eighteen  centuries,  trembled  once  more  before  a  conquering 
military  republic. 

Goethe's  description  of  the  cannonade  has  been  quoted.  His 
observation  to  his  comrades,  and  the  camp  of  the  allies  at  the 
end  of  the  battle,  deserves  quotation  also.  It  shows  that  the 
poet  felt  (and  probably  he  alone,  of  the  thousands  there  as- 
sembled, felt)  the  full  importance  of  that  day.  He  describes  the 
consternation  and  the  change  of  demeanor  which  he  observed 
among  his  Prussian  friends  that  evening.  He  tells  us  that 
"  most  of  them  were  silent,  and,  in  fact,  the  power  of  reflec- 
tion and  judgment  was  wanting  to  all.  At  last  I  was  called 
upon  to  say  what  I  thought  of  the  engagement,  for  I  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  enlivening  and  amusing  the  troop  with  short 
sayings.  This  time  I  said,  '  From  this  place  and  from  this  day 
forth  commences  a  neiv  era  in  the  world's  history,  and  you  can 
all  say  that  you  were  present  at  its  birth/  " 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Valmy,  a.d. 
1792,  and  the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  a.d.  1815. 

A.D.  1793.  Trial  and  execution  of  Louis  XVI.  at  Paris.  Eng- 
land and  Spain  declare  war  against  France.  Royalist  war  in 
La  Vendee.    Second  invasion  of  France  by  the  allies. 

1794.  Lord  Howe's  victory  over  the  French  fleet.  Final 
partition  of  Poland  by  Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria. 

1795.  The  French  armies,  under  Pichegru,  conquer  Holland. 
Cessation  of  the  war  in  La  Vendee. 

1796.  Bonaparte  commands  the  French  army  of  Italy,  and 
gains  repeated  victories  over  the  Austrians. 

1797.  Victory  of  Jervis  off  Cape  St.  Vincent.  Peace  of  Campo 
Formio  between  France  and  Austria.  Defeat  of  the  Dutch  ofif 
Camperdown  by  Admiral  Duncan. 

1798.  Rebellion  in  Ireland.    Expedition  of  the  French  under 


THE  BATTLE   OF  VALMY  341 

Bonaparte  to  Egypt.    Lord  Nelson  destroys  the  French  fleet 
at  the  battle  of  the  Nile. 

1799.  Renewal  of  the  war  between  Austria  and  France.  The 
Russian  emperor  sends  an  army  in  aid  of  Austria  under  Suwar- 
row.  The  French  are  repeatedly  defeated  in  Italy.  Bona- 
parte returns  from  Egypt  and  makes  himself  First  Consul  of 
France.  Massena  wins  the  battle  of  Zurich.  The  Russian  em- 
peror makes  peace  with  France. 

1800.  Bonaparte  passes  the  Alps,  and  defeats  the  Austrians 
at  Marengo.     Moreau  wins  the  battle  of  Hohenlinden. 

1 80 1.  Treaty  of  Luneville  between  France  and  Austria. 
The  battle  of  Copenhagen. 

1802.  Peace  of  Amiens. 

1803.  War  between  England  and  France  renewed. 

1804.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  is  made  Emperor  of  France. 

1805.  Great  preparations  of  Napoleon  to  invade  England. 
Austria,  supported  by  Russia,  renews  war  with  France.  Napo- 
leon marches  into  Germany,  takes  Vienna,  and  gains  the  battle 
of  Austerlitz.  Lord  Nelson  destroys  the  combined  French 
and  Spanish  fleets,  and  is  killed  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar. 

1806.  War  between  Prussia  and  France.  Napoleon  con- 
quers Prussia  at  the  battle  of  Jena. 

1807.  Obstinate  warfare  between  the  French  and  Prussian 
armies  in  East  Prussia  and  Poland.    Peace  of  Tilsit. 

1808.  Napoleon  endeavors  to  make  his  brother  king  of 
Spain.  Rising  of  the  Spanish  nation  against  him.  England 
sends  troops  to  aid  the  Spaniards.  Battle  of  Vimiera  and 
Corunna. 

1809.  War  renewed  between  France  and  Austria.  Battles 
of  Asperne  and  Wagram.  Peace  granted  to  Austria.  Lord 
Wellington's  victory  of  Talavera,  in  Spain. 

1810.  Marriage  of  Napoleon  and  the  Archduchess  Maria 
Louisa.    Holland  annexed  to  France. 

1812.  War  between  England  and  the  United  States.  Napo- 
leon invades  Russia.  Battle  of  Borodino.  The  French  occupy 
Moscow,  which  is  burned.  Disastrous  retreat  and  almost  total 
destruction  of  the  great  army  of  France. 

1 81 3.  Prussia  and  Austria  take  up  arms  again  against 
France.  Battles  of  Liitzen,  Bautzen,  Dresden,  Culm,  and  Leip- 
sic.    The  French  are  driven  out  of  Germany.    Lord  Welling- 


342  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

ton  gains  the  great  battle  of  Vittoria,  which  completes  the  res- 
cue of  Spain  from  France. 

1814.  The  allies  invade  France  on  the  eastern,  and  Lord 
Wellington  invades  it  on  the  southern,  frontier.  Battles  of 
Laon,  Montmirail,  Arcis-sur-Aube,  and  others  in  the  north- 
east of  France;  and  of  Toulouse  in  the  south.  Paris  sur- 
renders to  the  allies,  and  Napoleon  abdicates.  First  restoration 
of  the  Bourbons.  Napoleon  goes  to  the  Isle  of  Elba,  which  is 
assigned  to  him  by  the  allies.  Treaty  of  Ghent  between  the 
United  States  and  England. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO,  A.D.   1815. 

"  Thou  first  and  last  of  fields,  king-making  victory!  " 

— Byron. 

ENGLAND  has  now  been  blessed  with  thirty-six  years  of 
peace.  At  no  other  period  of  her  history  can  a  sim- 
ilarly long  cessation  from  a  state  of  warfare  be  fovmd. 
It  is  true  that  our  troops  have  had  battles  to  fight  during  this 
interval  for  the  protection  and  extension  of  our  Indian  posses- 
sions and  our  colonies,  but  these  have  been  with  distant  and  un- 
important enemies.  The  danger  has  never  been  brought  near 
our  own  shores,  and  no  matter  of  vital  importance  to  our  em- 
pire has  ever  been  at  stake.  We  have  not  had  hostilities  with 
either  France,  America,  or  Russia ;  and  when  not  at  war  with 
any  of  our  peers,  we  feel  ourselves  to  be  substantially  at  peace. 
There  has,  indeed,  throughout  this  long  period,  been  no  great 
war,  like  those  with  which  the  previous  history  of  modern  Eu- 
rope abounds.  There  have  been  formidable  collisions  between 
particular  states,  and  there  have  been  still  more  formidable 
collisions  between  the  armed  champions  of  the  conflicting  prin- 
ciples of  absolutism  and  democracy ;  but  there  has  been  no 
general  war,  like  those  of  the  French  Revolution,  like  the 
American,  or  the  Seven  Years'  War,  or  like  the  war  of  the 
Spanish  Succession.  It  would  be  far  too  much  to  augur  from 
this  that  no  similar  wars  will  again  convulse  the  world ;  but 
the  value  of  the  period  of  peace  which  Europe  has  gained  is 
incalculable,  even  if  we  look  on  it  as  only  a  truce,  and  expect 
again  to  see  the  nations  of  the  earth  recur  to  what  some  philoso- 
phers have  termed  man's  natural  state  of  warfare. 

No  equal  number  of  years  can  be  found  during  which  sci- 
ence, commerce,  and  civilization  have  advanced  so  rapidly  and 
so  extensively  as  has  been  the  case  since  1815.  When  we  trace 
their  progress,  especially  in  this  country,  it  is  impossible  not 

343 


344 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


to  feel  that  their  wondrous  development  has  been  mainly  due 
to  the  land  having  been  at  peace.*  Their  good  effects  cannot 
be  obliterated  even  if  a  series  of  wars  were  to  recommence. 
When  we  reflect  on  this  and  contrast  these  thirty-six  years  with 
the  period  that  preceded  them — a  period  of  violence,  of  tumult, 
of  unrestingly  destructive  energy — a  period  throughout  which 
the  wealth  of  nations  was  scattered  like  sand,  and  the  blood  of 
nations  lavished  like  water,  it  is  impossible  not  to  look  with 
deep  interest  on  the  final  crisis  of  that  dark  and  dreadful  epoch 
— the  crisis  out  of  which  our  own  happier  cycle  of  years  has 
been  evolved.  The  great  battle  which  ended  the  twenty-three 
years'  war  of  the  first  French  Revolution,  and  which  quehed 
the  man  whose  genius  and  ambition  had  so  long  disturbed  and 
desolated  the  world,  deserves  to  be  regarded  by  us  not  only 
with  peculiar  pride  as  one  of  our  greatest  national  victories, 
but  with  peculiar  gratitude  for  the  repose  which  it  secured  for 
us  and  for  the  greater  part  of  the  human  race. 

One  good  test  for  determining  the  importance  of  Waterloo  is 
to  ascertain  what  was  felt  by  wise  and  prudent  statesmen  before 
that  battle  respecting  the  return  of  Napoleon  from  Elba  to 
the  imperial  throne  of  France,  and  the  probable  effects  of  his 
success.  For  this  purpose,  I  will  quote  the  words,  not  of  any 
of  our  vehement  anti-Gallican  politicians  of  the  school  of  Pitt, 
but  of  a  leader  of  our  Liberal  party,  of  a  man  whose  reputation 
as  a  jurist,  an  historian,  and  a  far-sighted  and  candid  statesman 
was,  and  is,  deservedly  high,  not  only  in  this  country,  but 
throughout  Europe.  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  on  the  20th  of 
April,  18 1 5,  spoke  thus  of  the  return  from  Elba: 

"  Was  it  in  the  power  of  language  to  describe  the  evil  ? 
Wars  which  had  raged  for  more  than  twenty  years  through- 
out Europe;  which  had  spread  blood  and  desolation  from 
Cadiz  to  Moscow,  and  from  Naples  to  Copenhagen  ;  which 
had  wasted  the  means  of  human  enjoyment,  and  destroyed  the 
instruments  of  social  improvement ;  which  threatened  to  dif- 
fuse among  the  European  nations  the  dissolute  and  ferocious 
habits  of  a  predatory  soldiery — at  length,  by  one  of  those  vicis- 
situdes which  bid  defiance  to  the  foresight  of  man,  had  been 
brought  to  a  close,  upon  the  whole,  happy,  beyond  all  reason- 
able  expectation,   with   no  violent   shock   to   national   inde- 

*  See  the  excellent  Introduction  to  Mr.  Charles  Knight's  History  of 
the  "  Thirty  Years'  Peace." 


BATTLE    OF   WATERLOO 


345 


pendence,  with  some  tolerable  compromise  between  the  opin- 
ions of  the  age  and  the  reverence  due  to  ancient  institutions ; 
with  no  too  signal  or  mortifying  triumph  over  the  legitimate 
interests  or  avowable  feelings  of  any  numerous  body  of  men, 
and,  above  all,  without  those  retaliations  against  nations  or 
parties  which  beget  new  convulsions,  often  as  horrible  as  those 
which  they  close,  and  perpetuate  revenge,  and  hatred,  and 
blood  shed  from  age  to  age.  Europe  seemed  to  breathe  after 
her  sufferings.  In  the  midst  of  this  fair  prospect  and  of  these 
consolatory  hopes,  Napoleon  Bonaparte  escaped  from  Elba ; 
three  small  vessels  reached  the  coast  of  Provenge ;  our  hopes 
are  instantly  dispelled  ;  the  work  of  our  toil  and  fortitude  is  un- 
done ;  the  blood  of  Europe  is  spilled  in  vain — 

"  '  Ibi  omnis  effusus  labor!  '  " 

The  congress  of  emperors,  kings,  princes,  generals,  and  states- 
men v/ho  had  assembled  at  Vienna  to  remodel  the  world  after 
the  overthrow  of  the  mighty  conqueror,  and  who  thought  that 
Napoleon  had  passed  away  forever  from  the  great  drama  of 
European  politics,  had  not  yet  completed  their  triumphant  fes- 
tivities and  their  diplomatic  toils,  when  Talleyrand,  on  the  nth 
of  March,  1815,  rose  up  among  them  and  announced  that  the 
ex-emperor  had  escaped  from  Elba,  and  was  emperor  of  France 
once  more.  It  is  recorded  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  as  a  curious 
physiological  fact,  that  the  first  effect  of  the  news  of  an  event 
which  threatened  to  neutralize  all  their  labors  was  to  excite  a 
loud  burst  of  laughter  from  nearly  every  member  of  the  con- 
gress. But  the  jest  was  a  bitter  one;  and  they  were  soon  deeply 
busied  in  anxious  deliberations  respecting  the  mode  in  which 
they  should  encounter  their  arch-enemy,  who  had  thus  started 
from  torpor  and  obscurity  into  renovated  splendor  and  strength : 

"  Qualis  ubi  in  lucem  coluber  mala  gramina  pastus, 
Frigida  sub  terra  tumidum  quem  bruma  tegebat, 
Nunc  positis  novus  exuviis  nitidusque  juventa, 
Lubrica  convolvit  sublato  pectore  terga 
Arduus  ad  solein,  et  Unguis  micata  ore  trisulcis." 

— Vergil,  Mneid. 

Napoleon  sought  to  disunite  the  formidable  confederacy 
which  he  knew  would  be  arrayed  against  him,  by  endeavoring 
to  negotiate  separately  with  each  of  the  allied  sovereigns.  It 
is  said  that  Austria  and  Russia  were  at  first  not  unwilling  to  treat 


346  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

with  him.  Disputes  and  jealousies  had  been  rife  among  several 
of  the  Allies  on  the  subject  of  the  division  of  the  conquered 
countries;  and  the  cordial  unanimity  with  which  they  had  acted 
during  1813  and  the  first  months  of  1814  had  grown  chill  dur- 
ing some  weeks  of  discussions.  But  the  active  exertions  of 
Talleyrand,  who  represented  Louis  XVIII  at  the  congress,  and 
who  both  hated  and  feared  Napoleon  with  all  the  intensity  of 
which  his  powerful  spirit  was  capable,  prevented  the  secession 
of  any  member  of  the  congress  from  the  new  great  league 
against  their  ancient  enemy.  Still,  it  is  highly  probable  that 
if  Napoleon  had  triumphed  in  Belgium  over  the  Prussians  and 
the  English,  he  would  have  succeeded  in  opening  negotiations 
with  the  Austrians  and  Russians ;  and  he  might  have  thus  gained 
advantages  similar  to  those  which  he  had  obtained  on  his  re- 
turn from  Egypt,  when  he  induced  the  Czar  Paul  to  withdraw 
the  Russian  armies  from  co-operating  with  the  other  enemies 
of  France  in  the  extremity  of  peril  to  which  she  seemed  re- 
duced in  1799.  But  fortune  now  had  deserted  him,  both  in 
diplomacy  and  in  war. 

On  the  13th  of  March,  181 5,  the  ministers  of  the  seven  pow- 
ers, Austria,  Spain,  England,  Portugal,  Prussia,  Russia,  and 
Sweden,  signed  a  manifesto  by  which  they  declared  Napoleon 
an  outlaw;  and  this  denunciation  was  instantly  followed  up 
by  a  treaty  between  England,  Austria,  Prussia,  and  Russia  (to 
which  other  powers  soon  acceded),  by  which  the  rulers  of  those 
countries  bound  themselves  to  enforce  that  decree,  and  to  prose- 
cute the  war  until  Napoleon  should  be  driven  from  the  throne 
of  France  and  rendered  incapable  of  disturbing  the  peace  of 
Europe.  The  Duke  of  Wellington  was  the  representative  of 
England  at  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  and  he  was  immediately 
applied  to  for  his  advice  on  the  plan  of  military  operations 
against  France.  It  was  obvious  that  Belgium  would  be  the 
first  battle-field;  and  by  the  general  wish  of  the  Allies,  the  Eng- 
lish duke  proceeded  thither  to  assemble  an  army  from  the  con- 
tingents of  Dutch,  Belgian,  and  Hanoverian  troops  that  were 
most  speedily  available,  and  from  the  English  regiments  which 
his  own  government  was  hastening  to  send  oVer  from  this  coun- 
try. A  strong  Prussian  corps  was  near  Aix-la-Chapelle,  having 
remained  there  since  the  campaign  of  the  preceding  year.  This- 
was  largely  reinforced  by  other  troops  of  the  same  nation;  and 
Marshal  Bliicher,  the  favorite  hero  of  the  Prussian  soldiery  and 


BATTLE    OF   WATERLOO  347 

the  deadliest  foe  of  France,  assumed  the  command  of  this  army, 
which  was  termed  the  "  Army  of  the  Lower  Rhine,"  and  which, 
in  conjunction  with  Welhngton's  forces,  was  to  make  the  van 
of  the  armaments  of  the  aUied  powers.  Meanwhile  Prince 
Schwartzenberg  was  to  collect  130,000  Austrians  and  124,000 
troops  of  other  Germanic  states,  as  the  "  Army  of  the  Upper 
Rhine  "  ;  and  168,000  Russians,  under  the  command  of  Bar- 
clay de  Tolly,  were  to  form  the  "  Army  of  the  Middle  Rhine," 
and  to  repeat  the  march  from  Muscovy  to  that  river's  banks. 

The  exertions  which  the  allied  powers  made  at  this  crisis  to 
grapple  promptly  with  the  French  emperor  have  truly  been 
termed  gigantic,  and  never  were  Napoleon's  genius  and  ac- 
tivity more  signally  displayed  than  in  the  celerity  and  skill  by 
which  he  brought  forward  all  the  military  resources  of  France, 
which  the  reverses  of  the  three  preceding  years,  and  the  pacific 
policy  of  the  Bourbons  during  the  months  of  their  first  restora- 
tion, had  greatly  diminished  and  disorganized.  He  re-entered 
Paris  on  the  20th  of  March,  and  by  the  end  of  May,  besides 
sending  a  force  into  La  Vendee  to  put  down  the  armed  risings 
of  the  Royalists  in  that  province,  and  besides  providing  troops 
under  Massena  and  Suchet  for  the  defence  of  the  southern  fron- 
tiers of  France,  Napoleon  had  an  army  assembled  in  the  north- 
east for  active  operations  under  his  own  command,  which 
amounted  to  between  120,000  and  130,000  men,*  with  a  superb 
park  of  artillery,  and  in  the  highest  possible  state  of  equipment, 
discipline,  and  efficiency. 

The  approach  of  the  multitudinous  Russian,  Austrian,  Ba- 
varian, and  other  foes  of  the  French  Emperor  to  the  Rhine 
was  necessarily  slow;  but  the  two  most  active  of  the  allied 
powers  had  occupied  Belgium  with  their  troops,  while  Napo- 
leon was  organizing  his  forces.  Marshal  Bliicher  was  there 
with  one  hundred  and  sixteen  thousand  Prussians ;  and,  be- 
fore the  end  of  May  the  Duke  of  Wellington  was  there  also 
with  about  one  hundred  and  six  thousand  troops,  either  British 
or  in  British  pay.f  Napoleon  determined  to  attack  these  en- 
emies in  Belgium.  The  disparity  of  numbers  was  indeed  great, 
but  delay  was  sure  to  increase  the  proportionate  numerical 
superiority  of  his  enemies  over  his  own  ranks.     The  French 

*  See,  for  these  numbers,   Siborne's  "  History  of  the  Campaign  of 
Waterloo,"  vol.  i.,  p.  41. 
t  Siborne,  vol.  i.,  chap.  iii. 


348  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Emperor  considered  also  that  "  the  enemy's  troops  were  now 
cantoned  under  the  command  of  two  generals,  and  composed 
of  nations  differing  both  in  interest  and  in  feelings."  *  His 
own  army  was  under  his  own  sole  command.  It  was  com- 
posed exclusively  of  French  soldiers,  mostly  of  veterans,  well 
acquainted  with  their  ollficers  and  with  each  other,  and  full  of 
enthusiastic  confidence  in  their  commander.  If  he  could 
separate  the  Prussians  from  the  British,  so  as  to  attack  each 
singly,  he  felt  sanguine  of  success,  not  only  against  these  the 
most  resolute  of  his  many  adversaries,  but  also  against  the 
other  masses  that  were  slowly  laboring  up  against  his  eastern 
dominions. 

The  triple  chain  of  strong  fortresses  which  the  French  pos- 
sessed on  the  Belgian  frontier  formed  a  curtain,  behind  which 
Napoleon  was  able  to  concentrate  his  army,  and  to  conceal  till 
the  very  last  moment  the  precise  line  of  attack  which  he  in- 
tended to  take.  On  the  other  hand,  Blucher  and  Wellington 
were  obliged  to  canton  their  troops  along  a  line  of  open  coun- 
try of  considerable  length,  so  as  to  watch  for  the  outbreak  of 
Napoleon  from  whichever  point  of  his  chain  of  strongholds  he 
should  please  to  make  it.  Bliicher,  with  his  army,  occupied  the 
banks  of  the  Sambre  and  the  Meuse,  from  Liege  on  his  left  to 
Charleroi  on  his  right;  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington  covered 
Brussels,  his  cantonments  being  partly  in  front  of  that  city,  and 
between  it  and  the  French  frontier,  and  partly  on  its  west ;  their 
extreme  right  reaching  to  Courtray  and  Toumay,  while  their 
left  approached  Charleroi  and  communicated  with  the  Prussian 
right.  It  was  upon  Charleroi  that  Napoleon  resolved  to  level 
his  attack,  in  hopes  of  severing  the  two  allied  armies  from  each 
other,  and  then  pursuing  his  favorite  tactics  of  assailing  each 
separately  with  a  superior  force  on  the  battle-field,  though  the 
aggregate  of  their  numbers  considerably  exceeded  his  own. 

The  first  French  corps  d'armee,  commanded  by  Count  d'Er- 
lon,  was  stationed,  in  the  beginning  of  June,  in  and  around  the 
city  of  Lille,  near  to  the  northeastern  frontier  of  France.  The 
second  corps,  under  Count  Reille,  was  at  Valenciennes,  to  the 
right  of  the  first  one.  The  third  corps,  under  Count  Vandamme, 
was  at  Mezieres.  The  fourth,  under  Count  Gerard,  had  its  head- 
quarters at  Metz;  and  the  sixth, f  under  Count  Lobau,  was  at 
Laon.    Four  corps  of  reserve  cavalry,  under  Marshal  Grouchy, 

*  See  Montholon's  "  Memoirs,"  p.  45. 

t  The  fifth  corps  was  under  Count  Rapp  at  Strasburg. 


BATTLE    OF    WATERLOO  349 

were  also  near  the  frontier,  between  the  rivers  Aisne  and  Sambre. 
The  Imperial  Guard  remained  in  Paris  until  the  8th  of  June, 
when  it  marched  towards  Belgium,  and  reached  Avesnes  on  the 
13th;  and  in  the  course  of  the  same  and  the  following  day,  the 
five  corps  d'armee,  with  the  cavalry  reserves  which  have  been 
mentioned,  were,  in  pursuance  of  skilfully  combined  orders, 
rapidly  drawn  together  and  concentrated  in  and  around  the  same 
place,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river  Sambre.  On  the  14th  Na- 
poleon arrived  among  his  troops,  who  were  exulting  at  the  dis- 
play of  their  commander's  skill  in  the  celerity  and  precision  with 
which  they  had  been  drawn  together  and  in  the  consciousness 
of  their  collective  strength.  Although  Napoleon  too  often  per- 
mitted himself  to  use  language  unworthy  of  his  own  character 
respecting  his  great  English  adversary,  his  real  feelings  in  com- 
mencing this  campaign  may  be  judged  from  the  last  words 
which  he  spoke,  as  he  threw  himself  into  his  travelling-carriage 
to  leave  Paris  for  the  army.  "  I  go,"  he  said,  "  to  measure  my- 
self with  Wellington." 

The  enthusiasm  of  the  French  soldiers  at  seeing  their  em- 
peror among  them  was  still  more  excited  by  the  "  Order  of  the 
Day,"  in  which  he  thus  appealed  to  them: 

"  Napoleon,  by  the  Grace  of  God,  and  the  Constitution  of  the  Empire, 
Emperor  of  the  French,  etc.,  to  the  Grand  Army. 

"  At  the  Imperial  Headquarters, 
"Avesnes,  June  14th,  1815. 

"  Soldiers !  this  day  is  the  anniversary  of  Marengo  and  of  Friedland, 
which  twice  decided  the  destiny  of  Europe.  Then,  as  after  Austerlitz, 
as  after  Wagram,  we  were  too  generous !  We  believed  in  the  protesta- 
tions and  in  the  oaths  of  princes,  whom  we  left  on  their  thrones.  Now, 
however,  leagued  together,  they  aim  at  the  independence  and  the  most 
sacred  rights  of  France.  They  have  commenced  the  most  unjust  of 
aggressions.  Let  us,  then,  march  to  meet  them.  Are  they  and  we  no 
longer  the  same  men? 

"  Soldiers !  at  Jena,  against  these  same  Prussians,  now  so  arrogant, 
you  were  one  to  three,  and  at  Montmirail  one  to  six ! 

"  Let  those  among  you  who  have  been  captives  to  the  English  describe 
the  nature  of  their  prison  ships,  and  the  frightful  miseries  they  endured. 

"  The  Saxons,  the  Belgians,  the  Hanoverians,  the  soldiers  of  the  Con- 
federation of  the  Rhine,  lament  that  they  are  compelled  to  use  their 
arms  in  the  cause  of  princes,  the  enemies  of  justice  and  of  the  rights  of 
all  nations.  They  know  that  this  coalition  is  insatiable !  After  having 
devoured   twelve   millions  of   Poles,   twelve   millions  of   Italians,   one 


350  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

million  of  Saxons,  and  six  millions  of  Belgians,  it  now  wishes  to  devour 
the  states  of  the  second  rank  in  Germany. 

"  Madmen !  one  moment  of  prosperity  has  bewildered  them.  The 
oppression  and  the  humiliation  of  the  French  people  are  beyond  their 
power.     If  they  enter  France,  they  will  there  find  their  grave. 

"  Soldiers !  we  have  forced  marches  to  make,  battles  to  fight,  dangers 
to  encounter;  but,  with  firmness,  victory  will  be  ours.  The  rights,  the 
honor,  and  the  happiness  of  the  country  will  be  recovered ! 

"  To  every  Frenchman  who  has  a  heart,  the  moment  is  now  arrived 
to  conquer  or  to  die. 

'''  Napoleon. 
"  The  Marshal  Duke  of  Dalmatia, 
IMajor-general." 

The  15th  of  June  had  scarcely  dawned  before  the  French 
army  was  in  motion  for  the  decisive  campaign  and  crossed  the 
frontier  in  three  columns,  which  were  pointed  upon  Charleroi 
and  its  vicinity.  The  French  line  of  advance  upon  Brussels, 
which  city  Napoleon  resolved  to  occupy,  thus  lay  right  through 
the  centre  of  the  cantonments  of  the  Allies. 

Much  criticism  has  been  expended  on  the  supposed  surprise 
of  Wellington's  army  in  its  cantonments  by  Napoleon's  rapid 
advance.  These  comments  would  hardly  have  been  made  if 
sufficient  attention  had  been  paid  to  the  geography  of  the  Wa- 
terloo campaign,  and  if  it  had  been  remembered  that  the  pro- 
tection of  Brussels  was  justly  considered  by  the  allied  generals 
a  matter  of  primary  importance.  If  Napoleon  could,  either  by 
manoeuvring  or  fighting,  have  succeeded  in  occupying  that  city, 
the  greater  part  of  Belgium  would  unquestionably  have  de- 
clared in  his  favor;  and  the  results  of  such  a  success,  gained  by 
the  emperor  at  the  commencement  of  the  campaign,  might  have 
decisively  influenced  the  whole  after  current  of  events.  A  glance 
at  the  map  w^ill  show  the  numerous  roads  that  lead  from  the  dif- 
ferent fortresses  on  the  French  northeastern  frontier  and  con- 
verge upon  Brussels,  any  one  of  which  Napoleon  might  have 
chosen  for  the  advance  of  a  strong  force  upon  that  city.  The 
duke's  army  was  judiciously  arranged  so  as  to  enable  him  to 
concentrate  troops  on  any  one  of  these  roads  sufficiently  in 
advance  of  Brussels  to  check  an  assailing  enemy.  The  army 
was  kept  thus  available  for  movement  in  any  necessary  direc- 
tion, till  certain  intelligence  arrived  on  the  15th  of  June  that  the 
French  had  crossed  the  frontier  in  large  force  near  Thuin,  that 
they  had  driven  back  the  Prussian  advanced  troops  under  Gen- 


BATTLE    OF   WATERLOO  351 

eral  Ziethen,  and  were  also  moving  across  the  Sambre  upon 
Charleroi. 

Marshal  Bliicher  now  rapidly  concentrated  his  forces,  calling 
them  in  from  the  left  upon  Ligny,  which  is  to  the  northeast  of 
Charleroi.  Wellington  also  drew  his  troops  together,  calling 
them  in  from  the  right.  But  even  now,  though  it  was  certain 
that  the  French  were  in  large  force  at  Charleroi,  it  was  unsafe 
for  the  English  general  to  place  his  army  directly  between  that 
place  and  Brussels,  until  it  was  certain  that  no  corps  of  the 
enemy  was  marching  upon  Brussels  by  the  western  road  through 
Mons  and  Hal.  The  duke,  therefore,  collected  his  troops  in 
Brussels  and  its  immediate  vicinity,  ready  to  move  due  south- 
ward on  Quatre  Bras  and  co-operate  with  Bliicher,  who  was 
taking  his  station  at  Ligny,  but  also  ready  to  meet  and  defeat 
any  manoeuvre  that  the  enemy  might  make  to  turn  the  right  of 
the  Allies  and  occupy  Brussels  by  a  flanking  movement.  The 
testimony  of  the  Prussian  general,  Baron  Muffling,  who  was 
attached  to  the  duke's  staff  during  the  campaign,  and  who  ex- 
pressly states  the  reasons  on  which  the  English  general  acted, 
ought  forever  to  have  silenced  the  "  weak  inventions  of  the  ene- 
my "  about  the  Duke  of  Wellington  having  been  deceived  and 
surprised  by  his  assailant,  which  some  writers  of  our  own  nation, 
as  well  as  foreigners,  have  incautiously  repeated. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  15th  that 
a  Prussian  officer  reached  Brussels,  whom  General  Ziethen  had 
sent  to  Muffling  to  inform  him  of  the  advance  of  the  main 
French  army  upon  Charleroi.  Miiffling  immediately  communi- 
cated this  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  asked  him  whether 
he  would  now  concentrate  his  army,  and  what  would  be  his 
point  of  concentration,  observing  that  Marshal  Bliicher  in  con- 
sequence of  this  intelligence  would  certainly  concentrate  the 
Prussians  at  Ligny,  The  duke  replied:  "If  all  is  as  General 
Ziethen  supposes,  I  will  concentrate  on  my  left  wing,  and  so 
be  in  readiness  to  fight  in  conjunction  with  the  Prussian  army. 
Should,  however,  a  portion  of  the  enemy's  force  come  by  Mons, 
I  must  concentrate  more  towards  my  centre.  This  is  the  reason 
why  I  must  wait  for  positive  news  from  Mons  before  I  fix  the 
rendezvous.  Since,  however,  it  is  certain  that  the  troops  must 
march,  though  it  is  uncertain  upon  what  precise  spot  they  must 
march,  I  will  order  all  to  be  in  readiness  and  will  direct  a  brigade 
to  move  at  once  towards  Quatre  Bras." 


352  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Later  in  the  same  day  a  message  from  Bliicher  himself  was 
dehvered  to  Miiffling,  in  which  the  Prussian  field-marshal  in- 
formed the  baron  that  he  was  concentrating  his  men  at  Sombref 
and  Ligny,  and  charged  Miiffling  to  give  him  speedy  intelligence 
respecting  the  concentration  of  Wellington.  Miiffling  immedi- 
ately communicated  this  to  the  duke,  who  expressed  his  satis- 
faction with  Bliicher's  arrangements,  but  added  that  he  could 
not  even  then  resolve  upon  his  own  point  of  concentration  be- 
fore he  obtained  the  desired  intelligence  from  Mons.  About 
midnight  this  information  arrived.  The  duke  went  to  the  quar- 
ters of  General  Miiffling  and  told  him  that  he  now  had  received 
his  reports  from  Mons  and  was  sure  that  no  French  troops  were 
advancing  by  that  route,  but  that  the  mass  of  the  enemy's  force 
was  decidedly  directed  on  Charleroi.  He  informed  the  Prussian 
general  that  he  had  ordered  the  British  troops  to  move  forward 
upon  Quatre  Bras;  but  with  characteristic  coolness  and  sa- 
gacity resolved  not  to  give  the  appearance  of  alarm  by  hurrying 
on  with  them  himself.  A  ball  was  to  be  given  by  the  Duchess 
of  Richmond  at  Brussels  that  night,  and  the  duke  proposed  to 
General  Muffling  that  they  should  go  to  the  ball  for  a  few  hours, 
and  ride  forward  in  the  morning  to  overtake  the  troops  at 
Quatre  Bras. 

To  hundreds  who  were  assembled  at  that  memorable  ball  the 
news  that  the  enemy  was  advancing,  and  that  the  time  for  battle 
had  come,  must  have  been  a  fearfully  exciting  surprise,  and 
the  magnificent  stanzas  of  Byron  ("  Childe  Harold,"  Canto  HI) 
are  as  true  as  they  are  beautiful;  but  the  duke  and  his  principal 
officers  knew  well  the  stern  termination  to  that  festive  scene 
which  was  approaching.  One  by  one,  and  in  such  a  way  as  to 
attract  as  little  observation  as  possible,  the  leaders  of  the  various 
corps  left  the  ballroom  and  took  their  stations  at  the  head  of 
their  men,  who  were  pressing  forward  through  the  last  hours 
of  the  short  summer  night  to  the  arena  of  anticipated  slaughter. 

Napoleon's  operations  on  the  15th  had  been  conducted  with 
signal  skill  and  vigor,  and  their  results  had  been  very  advan- 
tageous for  his  plan  of  the  campaign.  With  his  army  formed 
in  three  vast  columns,  he  had  struck  at  the  centre  of  the  line 
of  cantonments  of  his  allied  foes;  and  he  had  so  far  made  good 
his  blow  that  he  had  elTected  the  passage  of  the  Sambre,  he  had 
beaten  with  his  left  wing  the  Prussian  corps  of  General  Ziethen 
at  Thuin,  and  with  his  centre  he  had  in  person  advanced  right 


BATTLE    OF    WATERLOO  353 

through  Charleroi  upon  Fleurus,  inflicting  considerable  loss 
upon  the  Prussians  that  fell  back  before  him.  His  right  column 
had  with  little  opposition  moved  forward  as  far  as  the  bridge 
of  Chatelet. 

Napoleon  had  thus  a  powerful  force  inmiediately  in  front  of 
the  point  which  Bliicher  had  fixed  for  the  concentration  of  the 
Prussian  army,  and  that  concentration  was  still  incomplete. 
The  French  emperor  designed  to  attack  the  Prussians  on  the 
morrow  in  person  wdth  the  troops  of  his  centre  and  right  col- 
umns, and  to  employ  his  left  wing  in  beating  back  such  English 
troops  as  might  advance  to  the  help  of  their  allies,  and  also  in 
aiding  his  own  attack  upon  Bliicher.  He  gave  the  command 
of  his  left  wing  to  Marshal  Ney.  Napoleon  seems  not  to  have 
originally  intended  to  employ  this  celebrated  general  in  the  cam- 
paign. It  was  only  on  the  night  of  the  nth  of  June  that  Marshal 
Ney  received  at  Paris  an  order  to  join  the  army.  Hurrying  for- 
ward to  the  Belgian  frontier,  he  meet  the  emperor  near  Charleroi. 
Napoleon  immediately  directed  him  to  take  the  command  of 
the  left  wing  and  to  press  forward  with  it  upon  Quatre  Bras  by 
the  line  of  the  road  which  leads  from  Charleroi  to  Brussels, 
through  Gosselies,  Frasne,  Quatre  Bras,  Genappe,  and  Water- 
loo. Ney  immediately  proceeded  to  the  post  assigned  him ;  and 
before  ten  on  the  night  of  the  15th  he  had  occupied  Gosselies 
and  Frasne,  driving  out  without  much  difficulty  some  weak 
Belgian  detachments  which  had  been  stationed  in  those  villages. 
The  lateness  of  the  hour  and  the  exhausted  state  of  the  French 
troops,  who  had  been  marching  and  fighting  since  ten  in  the 
morning,  made  him  pause  from  advancing  farther  to  attack  the 
much  more  important  position  of  Quatre  Bras.  In  truth,  the 
advantages  which  the  French  gained  by  their  almost  super- 
human energy  and  activity  throughout  the  long  day  of  the  15th 
of  June  were  necessarily  bought  at  the  price  of  more  delay  and 
inertness  during  the  following  night  and  morrow  than  would 
have  been  observable  if  they  had  not  been  thus  overtasked.  Ney 
has  been  blamed  for  want  of  promptness  in  his  attack  upon 
Quatre  Bras,  and  Napoleon  has  been  criticised  for  not  having 
fought  at  Ligny  before  the  afternoon  of  the  i6th;  but  their  cen- 
sors should  remember  that  soldiers  are  but  men  and  that  there 
must  be  necessarily  some  interval  of  time  before  troops  that  have 
been  worn  and  weakened  by  twenty  hours  of  incessant  fatigue 

23 


354  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

and  strife  can  be  fed,  rested,  reorganized,  and  brought  again 
into  action  with  any  hope  of  success. 

Having  on  the  night  of  the  15th  placed  the  most  advanced  of 
the  French  under  his  command  in  position  in  front  of  Frasne, 
Ney  rode  back  to  Charleroi,  where  Napoleon  also  arrived  about 
midnight,  having  returned  from  directing  the  operations  of  the 
centre  and  right  column  of  the  French.  The  emperor  and  the 
marshal  supped  together,  and  remained  in  earnest  conversation 
till  two  in  the  morning.  An  hour  or  two  afterwards  Ney  rode 
back  to  Frasne,  where  he  endeavored  to  collect  tidings  of  the 
numbers  and  movements  of  the  enemy  in  front  of  him;  and  also 
busied  himself  in  the  necessary  duty  of  learning  the  amount  and 
composition  of  the  troops  which  he  himself  was  commanding. 
He  had  been  so  suddenly  appointed  to  his  high  station  that  he 
did  not  know  the  strength  of  the  several  regiments  under  him, 
or  even  the  names  of  their  commanding  officers.  He  now  caused 
his  aide-de-camps  to  prepare  the  requisite  returns,  and  drew  to- 
gether the  troops,  whom  he  was  thus  learning  before  he  used 
them. 

Wellington  remained  at  the  Duchess  of  Richmond's  ball  at 
Brussels  till  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  i6th, 
"  showing  himself  very  cheerful,"  as  Baron  Miiffling,  who  ac- 
companied him,  observes.  At  five  o'clock  the  duke  and  the 
baron  were  on  horseback  and  reached  the  position  at  Ouatre 
Bras  about  eleven.  As  the  French,  who  were  in  front  of  Frasne, 
were  perfectly  quiet,  and  the  duke  was  informed  that  a  very  large 
force  under  Napoleon  in  person  was  menacing  Bliicher,  it  was 
thought  possible  that  only  a  slight  detachment  of  the  French 
was  posted  at  Frasne  in  order  to  mask  the  English  army.  In 
that  event  Wellington,  as  he  told  Baron  Muffling,  would  be 
able  to  employ  his  whole  strength  in  supporting  the  Prussians; 
and  he  proposed  to  ride  across  from  Ouatre  Bras  to  Bliicher's 
position  in  order  to  concert  with  him  personally  the  measures 
which  should  be  taken  in  order  to  bring  on  a  decisive  battle 
with  the  French.  Wellington  and  Miiffling  rode  accordingly 
towards  Ligny,  and  found  Marshal  Bliicher  and  his  staff  at  the 
windmill  of  Bry,  near  that  village.  The  Prussian  army,  80,000 
strong,  was  drawn  up  chiefly  along  a  chain  of  heights,  with  the 
villages  of  Sombref,  St.  Amand,  and  Ligny  in  their  front.  These 
villages  were  strongly  occupied  by  Prussian  detachments,  and 
formed  the  keys  of  Bliicher's  position.    The  heads  of  the  col- 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  355 

umns  which  Napoleon  was  forming  for  the  attack  were  visible 
in  the  distance.  The  duke  asked  Bliicher  and  General  Gneise- 
nau  (who  was  Bliicher's  adviser  in  matters  of  strategy)  what  they 
wished  him  to  do.  Muffling  had  already  explained  to  them  in 
a  few  words  the  duke's  earnest  desire  to  support  the  field-mar- 
shal, and  that  he  would  do  all  that  they  wished,  provided  they 
did  not  ask  him  to  divide  his  army,  which  was  contrary  to  his 
principles.  The  duke  vv^'ished  to  advance  with  his  army  (as  soon 
as  it  was  concentrated)  upon  Frasne  and  Gosselies,  and  thence 
to  move  upon  Napoleon's  flank  and  rear.  The  Prussian  leaders 
preferred  that  he  should  march  his  men  from  Quatre  Bras  by 
the  Namur  road,  so  as  to  form  a  reserve  in  the  rear  of  Bliicher's 
army.  The  duke  replied,  "  Well,  I  will  come  if  I  am  not  at- 
tacked myself,"  and  galloped  back  with  Miiffling  to  Quatre  Bras, 
where  the  French  attack  was  now  actually  raging. 

Marshal  Ney  began  the  battle  about  two  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. He  had  at  this  time  in  hand  about  16,000  infantry,  nearly 
2,000  cavalry,  and  38  guns.  The  force  which  Napoleon  nom- 
inally placed  at  his  command  exceeded  40,000  men.  But  more 
than  one-half  of  these  consisted  of  the  first  French  corps  d'armee, 
under  Count  d'Erlon;  and  Ney  was  deprived  of  the  use  of  this 
corps  at  the  time  that  he  most  required  it,  in  consequence  of 
its  receiving  orders  to  march  to  the  aid  of  the  emperor  at  Ligny. 
A  magnificent  body  of  heavy  cavalry  under  Kellermann,  nearly 
5,000  strong,  and  several  more  battalions  of  artillery  were  added 
to  Ney's  army  during  the  battle  of  Quatre  Bras;  but  his  effective 
infantry  force  never  exceeded  16,000. 

When  the  battle  began,  the  greater  part  of  the  duke's  army 
was  yet  on  its  march  towards  Quatre  Bras  from  Brussels  and 
the  other  parts  of  its  cantonments.  The  force  of  the  Allies, 
actually  in  position  there,  consisted  only  of  a  Dutch  and  Belgian 
division  of  infantry,  not  quite  7,000  strong,  with  one  battalion  of 
foot  and  one  of  horse-artillery.  The  Prince  of  Orange  com- 
manded them,  A  wood,  called  the  Bois  de  Bossu,  stretched 
along  the  right  (or  western)  flank  of  the  position  of  Quatre  Bras ; 
a  farmhouse  and  building,  called  Gemiancourt,  stood  on  some 
elevated  ground  in  its  front;  and  to  the  left  (or  east)  were  the 
enclosures  of  the  village  of  Pierremont.  The  Prince  of  Orange 
endeavored  to  secure  these  posts;  but  Ney  carried  Gemiancourt 
in  the  centre,  and  Pierremont  on  the  east,  and  gained  occupa- 
tion of  the  southern  part  of  the  wood  of  Bossu.    He  ranged  the 


35<5  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

chief  part  of  his  artillery  on  the  high  ground  of  Gemiancourt, 
whence  it  played  throughout  the  action  with  most  destructive 
effect  upon  the  Allies.  He  was  pressing  forward  to  further  ad- 
vantages, when  the  fifth  infantry  division,  under  Sir  Thomas 
Picton,  and  the  Duke  of  Brunswick's  corps,  appeared  upon  the 
scene.  Wellington  (who  had  returned  to  Quatre  Bras  from  his 
interview  with  Bliicher  shortly  before  the  arrival  of  these  forces) 
restored  the  fight  with  them ;  and  as  fresh  troops  of  the  Allies 
arrived,  they  were  brought  forward  to  stem  the  fierce  attacks 
which  Ney's  columns  and  squadrons  continued  to  make  with 
unabated  gallantry  and  zeal.  The  only  cavalry  of  the  Anglo- 
allied  army  that  reached  Quatre  Bras  during  the  action  con- 
sisted of  Dutch  and  Belgians,  and  a  small  force  of  Brunswickers 
under  their  duke,  who  was  killed  on  the  field.  These  proved 
wholly  unable  to  encounter  Kellermann's  cuirassiers  and  Pire's 
lancers.  The  Dutch  and  Belgian  infantry  also  gave  way  early 
in  the  engagement;  so  that  the  whole  brunt  of  the  battle  fell 
on  the  British  and  Germany  infantry.  They  sustained  it  nobly. 
Though  repeatedly  charged  by  the  French  cavalry,  though  ex- 
posed to  the  murderous  fire  of  the  French  batteries,  which  from 
the  heights  of  Gemiancourt  sent  shot  and  shell  into  the  devoted 
squares  whenever  the  French  horsemen  withdrew,  they  not  only 
repelled  their  assailants,  but  Kempt's  and  Pack's  brigades,  led 
on  by  Picton,  actually  advanced  against  and  through  their  charg- 
ing foes,  and  with  stern  determination  made  good  to  the  end  of 
the  day  the  ground  which  they  had  thus  boldly  won.  Some, 
however,  of  the  British  regiments  were  during  the  confusion 
assailed  by  the  French  cavalry  before  they  could  form  squares, 
and  suffered  severely.  One  regiment,  the  g2d,  was  almost  wholly 
destroyed  by  the  cuirassiers.  A  French  private  soldier  named 
Lami,  of  the  8th  Regiment  of  cuirassiers,  captured  one  of  the 
English  colors  and  presented  it  to  Ney.  It  was  a  solitary  trophy. 
The  arrival  of  the  English  Guards  about  half-past  six  o'clock 
enabled  the  duke  to  recover  the  wood  of  Bossu,  which  the  French 
had  almost  entirely  won  and  the  possession  of  which  by  them 
would  have  enabled  Ney  to  operate  destructively  upon  the  allied 
flank  and  rear.  Not  only  was  the  wood  of  Bossu  recovered  on 
the  British  right,  but  the  enclosures  of  Pierremont  were  also 
carried  on  the  left.  When  night  set  in  the  French  had  been 
driven  back  on  all  points  towards  Frasne;  but  they  still  held 
the  farm  of  Gemiancourt  in  front  of  the  duke's  centre.    Well- 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  357 

ington  and  Muffling  were  unacquainted  with  the  result  of  the 
collateral  battle  between  Bliicher  and  Napoleon,  the  cannon- 
ading of  which  had  been  distinctly  audible  at  Ouatre  Bras 
throughout  the  afternoon  and  evening.  The  duke  observed  to 
Muffling  that  of  course  the  two  allied  armies  would  assume  the 
offensive  against  the  enemy  on  the  morrow,  and,  consequently, 
it  would  be  better  to  capture  the  farm  at  once,  instead  of  wait- 
ing till  next  morning.  Muffling  agreed  in  the  duke's  views,  and 
Gemiancourt  w^as  forthwith  attacked  by  the  English  and  cap- 
tured with  little  loss  to  the  assailants. 

Meanwhile  the  French  and  the  Prussians  had  been  fighting 
in  and  round  the  villages  of  Ligny,  Sombref,  and  St.  Amand, 
from  three  in  the  afternoon  to  nine  in  the  evening,  with  a  sav- 
age inveteracy  almost  unparalleled  in  modern  warfare.  Bliicher 
had  in  the  field,  when  he  began  the  battle,  83,417  men  and  224 
guns.  Bulow's  corps,  which  was  25,000  strong,  had  not  joined 
him.  But  the  field-marshal  hoped  to  be  reinforced  by  it  or  by 
the  English  army  before  the  end  of  the  action.  But  Bulow, 
through  some  error  in  the  transmission  of  orders,  was  far  in 
the  rear;  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington  was  engaged,  as  we  have 
seen,  with  Marshal  Ney,  Bliicher  received  early  warning  from 
Baron  Muffling  that  the  duke  could  not  come  to  his  assistance; 
but,  as  Miiffling  observes,  Wellington  rendered  the  Prussians 
the  great  service  of  occupying  more  than  40,000  of  the  enemy, 
who  otherwise  would  have  crushed  Bliicher's  right  flank.  For 
not  only  did  the  conflict  at  Quatre  Bras  detain  the  French  troops 
which  actually  took  part  in  it,  but  d'Erlon  received  orders  from 
Ney  to  join  him,  which  hindered  d'Erlon  from  giving  effectual 
aid  to  Napoleon.  Indeed,  the  whole  of  d'Erlon's  corps,  in  con- 
sequence of  conflicting  directions  from  Ney  and  the  emperor, 
marched  and  countermarched,  during  the  i6th,  between  Quatre 
Bras  and  Ligny  without  firing  a  shot  in  either  battle. 

Bliicher  had,  in  fact,  a  superiority  of  more  than  12,000  in 
number  over  the  French  army  that  attacked  him  at  Ligny,  The 
numerical  difference  was  even  greater  at  the  beginning  of  the 
battle,  as  Lobau's  corps  did  not  come  up  from  Charleroi  till 
eight  o'clock.  After  five  hours  and  a  half  of  desperate  and  long- 
doubtful  struggle,  Napoleon  succeeded  in  breaking  the  centre 
of  the  Prussian  line  at  Ligny,  and  in  forcing  his  obstinate  an- 
tagonists off  the  field  of  battle.  The  issue  was  attributable  to 
his  skill,  and  not  to  any  want  of  spirit  or  resolution  on  the  part 


358  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

of  the  Prussian  troops;  nor  did  they,  though  defeated,  abate 
one  jot  in  discipline,  heart,  or  hope.  As  Bliicher  observed,  it 
was  a  battle  in  which  his  army  lost  the  day  but  not  its  honor. 
The  Prussians  retreated  during  the  night  of  the  i6th  and  the 
early  part  of  the  17th,  with  perfect  regularity  and  steadiness. 
The  retreat  was  directed  not  towards  Maestricht,  where  their 
principal  depots  were  established,  but  towards  Wavre,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  maintain  their  communication  with  Wellington's 
army,  and  still  follow  out  the  original  plan  of  the  campaign. 
The  heroism  with  which  the  Prussians  endured  and  repaired 
their  defeat  at  Ligny  is  more  glorious  than  many  victories. 

The  messenger  who  was  sent  to  inform  Wellington  of  the 
retreat  of  the  Prussian  army  was  shot  on  the  way,  and  it  was 
not  until  the  morning  of  the  17th  that  the  Allies,  at  Quatre 
Bras,  knew  the  result  of  the  battle  of  Ligny.  The  duke  was 
ready  at  daybreak  to  take  the  ofifensive  against  the  enemy  with 
vigor,  his  whole  army  being  by  that  time  fully  assembled.  But 
on  learning  that  Blvicher  had  been  defeated,  a  different  course 
of  action  was  clearly  necessary.  It  was  obvious  that  Napoleon's 
main  army  would  now  be  directed  against  Wellington,  and  a 
retreat  was  inevitable.  On  ascertaining  that  the  Prussian  army 
had  retired  upon  Wavre,  that  there  was  no  hot  pursuit  of  them 
by  the  French,  and  that  Bulow's  corps  had  taken  no  part  in  the 
action  at  Ligny,  the  duke  resolved  to  march  his  army  back 
towards  Brussels,  still  intending  to  cover  that  city  and  to  halt 
at  a  point  in  a  line  with  Wavre,  and  there  restore  his  communi- 
cation with  Bliicher.  An  officer  from  Bliicher's  army  reached 
the  duke  about  nine  o'clock,  from  whom  he  learned  the  ef- 
fective strength  that  Bliicher  still  possessed,  and  how  little  dis- 
couraged his  ally  was  by  yesterday's  battle.  Wellington  sent 
word  to  the  Prussian  commander  that  he  would  halt  in  the 
position  of  Mont  St.  Jean,  and  accept  a  general  battle  with  the 
French,  if  Bliicher  would  pledge  himself  to  come  to  his  as- 
sistance with  a  single  corps  of  25,000  men.  This  was  readily 
promised;  and  after  allowing  his  men  ample  time  for  rest  and 
refreshment,  Wellington  retired  over  about  half  the  space  be- 
tween Quatre  Bras  and  Brussels.  He  was  pursued,  but  little 
molested,  by  the  main  French  army,  which  about  noon  of  the 
17th  moved  laterally  from  Ligny  and  joined  Ney's  forces,  which 
had  advanced  through  Quatre  Bras  when  the  British  abandoned 
that  position.    The  Earl  of  Uxbridge,  with  the  British  cavalry, 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  359 

covered  the  retreat  of  the  duke's  army  with  great  skill  and  gal- 
lantry; and  a  heavy  thunder-storm,  with  torrents  of  rain,  im- 
peded the  operations  of  the  French  pursuing  squadrons.  The 
duke  still  expected  that  the  French  would  endeavor  to  turn  his 
right  and  march  upon  Brussels  by  the  highroad  that  leads 
through  Mons  and  Hal.  In  order  to  counteract  this  anticipated 
manoeuvre,  he  stationed  a  force  of  18,000  men,  under  Prince 
Frederick  of  the  Netherlands,  at  Hal,  with  orders  to  maintain 
himself  there,  if  attacked,  as  long  as  possible.  The  duke  halted 
with  the  rest  of  his  army  at  the  position  near  Mont  St.  Jean, 
which,  from  a  village  in  its  neighborhood,  has  received  the  ever- 
memorable  name  of  the  field  of  Waterloo. 

Wellington  was  now  about  twelve  miles  distant,  on  a  line  run- 
ning from  west  to  east,  from  Wavre,  where  the  Prussian  army 
had  now  been  completely  reorganized  and  collected,  and  where 
it  had  been  strengthened  by  the  junction  of  Bulow's  troops, 
which  had  taken  no  part  in  the  battle  of  Ligny.  Bliicher  sent 
word  from  Wavre  to  the  duke  that  he  was  coming  to  help  the 
English  at  Mont  St.  Jean,  in  the  morning,  not  with  one  corps, 
but  with  his  whole  army.  The  fiery  old  man  only  stipulated  that 
the  combined  armies,  if  not  attacked  by  Napoleon  on  the  i8th, 
should  themselves  attack  him  on  the  19th.  So  far  were  Bliicher 
and  his  army  from  being  in  the  state  of  annihilation  described 
in  the  boastful  bulletin  by  which  Napoleon  informed  the  Paris- 
ians of  his  victory  at  Ligny.  Indeed,  the  French  emperor  seems 
himself  to  have  been  misinformed  as  to  the  extent  of  loss  which 
he  had  inflicted  on  the  Prussians.  Had  he  known  in  what  good 
order  and  with  what  undiminished  spirit  they  were  retiring,  he 
would  scarcely  have  delayed  sending  a  large  force  to  press  them 
in  their  retreat  until  noon  on  the  17th.  Such,  however,  was  the 
case.  It  was  about  that  time  that  he  confided  to  Marshal 
Grouchy  the  duty  of  pursuing  the  defeated  Prussians  and  pre- 
venting them  from  joining  Wellington.  He  placed  for  this 
purpose  32,000  men  and  96  guns  under  his  orders.  Violent 
complaints  and  recriminations  passed  afterwards  between  the 
emperor  and  the  marshal  respecting  the  manner  in  which 
Grouchy  attempted  to  perform  this  duty,  and  the  reasons  why 
he  failed  on  the  18th  to  arrest  the  lateral  movement  of  the  Prus- 
sians from  Wavre  to  Waterloo.  It  is  sufficient  to  remark  here, 
that  the  force  which  Napoleon  gave  to  Grouchy  (though  the 
utmost  that  the  emperor's  limited  means  would  allow)  was  in- 


360  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

sufficient  to  make  head  against  the  entire  Prussian  army,  espe- 
cially after  Bulow's  junction  with  Blucher.  We  shall  presently 
have  occasion  to  consider  what  opportunities  were  given  to 
Grouchy  during  the  i8th,  and  what  he  might  have  effected  if 
he  had  been  a  man  of  original  military  genius. 

But  the  failure  of  Grouchy  was  in  truth  mainly  owing  to  the 
indomitable  heroism  of  Blucher  himself,  who,  though  he  had 
received  severe  personal  injuries  in  the  battle  of  Ligny,  was  as 
energetic  and  ready  as  ever  in  bringing  his  men  into  action 
again,  and  who  had  the  resolution  to  expose  a  part  of  his  army, 
under  Thielman,  to  be  overwhelmed  by  Grouchy  at  Wavre  on 
the  i8th,  while  he  urged  the  march  of  the  mass  of  his  troops 
upon  Waterloo.  "  It  is  not  at  Wavre,  but  at  Waterloo,"  said 
the  old  field-marshal,  "  that  the  campaign  is  to  be  decided ;  " 
and  he  risked  a  detachment,  and  won  the  campaign  accord- 
ingly. Wellington  and  Bliicher  trusted  each  other  as  cordially, 
and  co-operated  as  zealously,  as  formerly  had  been  the  case 
with  Marlborough  and  Eugene.  It  was  in  full  reliance  on 
Bliicher's  promise  to  join  him  that  the  duke  stood  his  ground 
and  fought  at  Waterloo ;  and  those  who  have  ventured  to  im- 
pugn the  duke's  capacity  as  a  general  ought  to  have  had  com- 
mon-sense enough  to  perceive  that  to  charge  the  duke  with 
having  won  the  battle  of  Waterloo  by  the  help  of  the  Prussians 
is  really  to  say  that  he  won  it  by  the  very  means  on  which  he 
relied,  and  without  the  expectation  of  which  the  battle  would 
not  have  been  fought. 

Napoleon  himself  has  found  fault  with  Wellington  *  for  not 
having  retreated  farther,  so  as  to  complete  a  junction  of  his 
army  with  Bliicher's  before  he  risked  a  general  engagement. 
But,  as  we  have  seen,  the  duke  justly  considered  it  important  to 
protect  Brussels.  He  had  reason  to  expect  that  his  army  could 
singly  resist  the  French  at  Waterloo  until  the  Prussians  came 
up,  and  that,  on  the  Prussians  joining,  there  would  be  a  suffi- 
cient force  united  under  himself  and  Bliicher  for  completely 
overwhelming  the  enemy.  And  while  Napoleon  thus  censures 
his  great  adversary,  he  involuntarily  bears  the  highest  possible 
testimony  to  the  military  character  of  the  English,  and  proves 
decisively  of  what  paramount  importance  was  the  battle  to 
which  he  challenged  his  fearless  opponent.  Napoleon  asks,  ''  // 
the  EnglisJi  army  had  been  beaten  at  Waterloo,  what  would  have 
*  See  Montholon's  "  Memoirs,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  44. 


BATTLE    OF    WATERLOO  361 

been  the  use  of  those  numerous  bodies  of  troops,  of  Prussians, 
Austrians,  Germans,  and  Spaniards,  which  were  advancing  by 
forced  marches  to  the  Rhine,  the  Alps,  and  the  Pyrenees?  "  * 

The  strength  of  the  army  under  the  Duke  of  Welhngton  at 
Waterloo  was  49,608  infantry,  12,402  cavalry,  and  5,645  ar- 
tillery-men, with  156  guns.f  But  of  this  total  of  67,655  men, 
scarcely  24,000  were  British,  a  circumstance  of  very  serious  im- 
portance if  Napoleon's  own  estimate  of  the  relative  value  of 
troops  of  dififerent  nations  is  to  be  taken.  In  the  emperor's  own 
words,  speaking  of  this  campaign,  "  A  French  soldier  would 
not  be  equal  to  more  than  one  English  soldier,  but  he  would  not 
be  afraid  to  meet  two  Dutchmen,  Prussians,  or  soldiers  of  the 
Confederation.";^  There  were  about  6,000  men  of  the  old 
German  Legion  with  the  duke  ;  these  were  veteran  troops,  and 
of  excellent  quality.  Of  the  rest  of  the  army  the  Hanoverians 
and  Brunswickers  proved  themselves  deserving  of  confidence 
and  praise.  But  the  Nassaviers,  Dutch,  and  Belgians  were 
almost  worthless ;  and  not  a  few  of  them  were  justly  suspected 
of  a  strong  wish  to  fight,  if  they  fought  at  all,  under  the  French 
eagles  rather  than  against  them. 

Napoleon's  army  at  Waterloo  consisted  of  48,950  infantry, 
15,765  cavalry,  7,232  artillery-men,  being  a  total  of  71,947  men 
and  246  guns.§  They  were  the  flower  of  the  national  forces  of 
France ;  and  of  all  the  numerous  gallant  armies  which  that 
martial  land  has  poured  forth,  never  was  there  one  braver,  or 
better  disciplined,  or  better  led,  than  the  host  that  took  up  its 
position  at  Waterloo  on  the  morning  of  the  i8th  of  June,  1815. 

Perhaps  those  who  have  not  seen  the  field  of  battle  at  Water- 
loo, or  the  admirable  model  of  the  ground  and  of  the  conflicting 
armies  which  was  executed  by  Captain  Siborne,  may  gain  a 
generally  accurate  idea  of  the  localities  by  picturing  to  them- 
selves a  valley  between  two  and  three  miles  long,  of  various 
breadths  at  different  points,  but  generally  not  exceeding  half 
a  mile.  On  each  side  of  the  valley  there  is  a  winding  chain  of 
low  hills,  running  somewhat  parallel  with  each  other.  The 
declivity  from  each  of  these  ranges  of  hills  to  the  intervening 
valley  is  gentle  but  not  uniform,  the  undulations  of  the  ground 
being  frequent  and  considerable.  The  English  army  was 
posted  on  the  northern,  and  the  French  army  occupied  the 

*  See  Montholon's  "  Memoirs."  vol.  iv..  p.  44.  t  Siborne,  vol.  i.,  p.  376. 
%  Montholon's  "  Memoirs,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  41.  §  See  Siborne,  ut  supra. 


362  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

southern  ridge.  The  artillery  of  each  side  thundered  at  the 
other  from  their  respective  heights  throughout  the  day,  and 
the  charges  of  horse  and  foot  were  made  across  the  valley  that 
has  been  describecl.  The  village  of  Mont  St.  Jean  is  situate 
a  little  behind  the  centre  of  the  northern  chain  of  hills,  and  the 
village  of  La  Belle  Alliance  is  close  behind  the  centre  of  the 
southern  ridge.  The  high  road  from  Charleroi  to  Brussels 
(a  broad  paved  causeway)  runs  through  both  these  villages, 
and  bisects,  therefore,  both  the  English  and  the  French  posi- 
tions. The  line  of  this  road  was  the  line  of  Napoleon's  intended 
advance  on  Brussels. 

There  are  some  other  local  particulars  connected  with  the 
situation  of  each  army  which  it  is  necessary  to  bear  in  mind. 
The  strength  of  the  British  position  did  not  consist  merely  in 
the  occupation  of  a  ridge  of  high  ground.  A  village  and  ravine, 
called  Merk  Braine,  on  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  extreme 
right,  secured  him  from  his  flank  being  turned  on  that  side ; 
and  on  his  extreme  left,  two  little  hamlets,  called  La  Haye  and 
Papellote,  gave  a  similar  though  a  slighter  protection.  Behind 
the  whole  British  position  is  the  extensive  forest  of  Soignies. 
As  no  attempt  was  made  by  the  French  to  turn  either  of  the 
English  flanks,  and  the  battle  was  a  day  of  straightforward 
fighting,  it  is  chiefly  important  to  see  what  posts  there  were  in 
front  of  the  British  line  of  hills  of  which  advantage  could  be 
taken  either  to  repel  or  facilitate  an  attack ;  and  it  will  be  seen 
that  there  were  two,  and  that  each  was  of  very  great  importance 
in  the  action.  In  front  of  the  British  right — that  is  to  say,  on 
the  northern  slope  of  the  valley  towards  its  western  end — there 
stood  an  old-fashioned  Flemish  farmhouse  called  Goumont 
or  Hougoumont,  with  out-buildings  and  a  garden,  and  with 
a  copse  of  beech-trees  of  about  two  acres  in  extent  around  it. 
This  was  strongly  garrisoned  by  the  allied  troops ;  and  while 
it  was  in  their  possession,  it  was  difficult  for  the  enemy  to  press 
on  and  force  the  British  right  wing.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the 
enemy  could  take  it,  it  would  be  difificult  for  that  wing  to  keep 
its  ground  on  the  heights,  with  a  strong  post  held  adversely  in 
its  immediate  front,  being  one  that  would  give  much  shelter 
to  the  enemy's  marksmen,  and  great  facilities  for  the  sudden 
concentration  of  attacking  columns.  Almost  immediately  in 
front  of  the  British  centre,  and  not  so  far  down  the  slope  as 
Hougoumont,  there  was  another  farmhouse,  of  a  smaller  size, 


BATTLE    OF   WATERLOO  363 

called  La  Haye  Sainte,*  which  was  also  held  by  the  British 
troops,  and  the  occupation  of  which  was  found  to  be  of  very 
serious  consequence. 

With  respect  to  the  French  position,  the  principal  feature  to 
be  noticed  is  the  village  of  Planchenoit,  which  lay  a  little  in  the 
rear  of  their  right  (i.e.,  on  the  eastern  side),  and  which  proved 
to  be  of  great  importance  in  aiding  them  to  check  the  advance 
of  the  Prussians. 

Napoleon,  in  his  memoirs,  and  other  French  writers,  have 
vehemently  blamed  the  duke  for  having  given  battle  in  such  a 
position  as  that  of  Waterloo.    They  particularly  object  that  the 
duke  fought  without  having  the  means  of  a  retreat,  if  the  attacks 
of  his  enemy  had  proved  successful ;  and  that  the  English  army, 
if  once  broken,  must  have  lost  all  its  guns  and  materiel  in  its 
flight  through  the  forest  of  Soignies,  that  lay  in  its  rear.     In 
answer  to  these  censures,  instead  of  merely  referring  to  the 
event  of  the  battle  as  proof  of  the  correctness  of  the  duke's  judg- 
ment, it  is  to  be  observed  that  many  military  critics  of  high 
authority  have  considered  the  position  of  Waterloo  to  have  been 
admirably  adapted  for  the  duke's  purpose  of  protecting  Brussels 
by  a  battle ;  and  that  certainly  the  duke's  opinion  in  favor  of  it 
was  not  Hghtly  or  hastily  formed.    It  is  a  remarkable  fact  (men- 
tioned in  the  speech  of  Lord  Bathurst  when  moving  the  vote 
of  thanks  to  the  duke  in  the  House  of  Lords)  that,  when  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  was  passing  through  Belgium  in  the  pre- 
ceding summer  of  1814,  he  particularly  noticed  the  strength  of 
the  position  of  Waterloo,  and  made  a  minute  of  it  at  the  time, 
stating  to  those  who  were  with  him  that  if  it  ever  should  be  his 
fate  to  fight  a  battle  in  that  quarter  for  the  protection  of  Brussels, 
he  should  endeavor  to  do  so  in  that  position.    And  with  respect 
to  the  forest  of  Soignies,  which  the  French  (and  some  few  Eng- 
lish) critics  have  thought  calculated  to  prove  so  fatal  to  a  re- 
treating force,  the  duke,  on  the  contrary,  believed  it  to  be  a 
post  that  might  have  proved  of  infinite  value  to  his  army  in  the 
event  of  his  having  been  obliged  to  give  way.     The  forest  of 
Soignies  has  no  thicket  or  masses  of  close-growing  trees.     It 
consists  of  tall  beeches,  and  is  everywhere  passable  for  men  and 
horses.    The  artillery  could  have  been  withdrawn  by  the  broad 
road  which  traverses  it  towards  Brussels;  and  in  the  mean  while 

*  Not  to  be  confounded  with  the  hamlet  of  La  Haye,  at  the  extreme 
kft  of  the  British  line. 


364  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

a  few  regiments  of  resolute  infantry  could  have  held  the  forest 
and  kept  the  pursuers  in  check.  One  of  the  best  writers  on  the 
Waterloo  campaign,  Captain  Pringle,  well  observes  that  "  every 
person  the  least  experienced  in  war  knows  the  extreme  difficulty 
of  forcing  infantry  from  a  wood  which  cannot  be  turned."  The 
defense  of  the  Bois  de  Bossu  near  Quatre  Bras  on  the  i6th  of 
June  had  given  a  good  proof  of  this;  and  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, when  speaking  in  after  years  of  the  possible  events  that 
might  have  followed  if  he  had  been  beaten  back  from  the  open 
field  of  Waterloo,  pointed  to  the  wood  of  Soignies  as  his  secure 
rallying  place,  saying,  "  They  never  could  have  beaten  us  so 
that  we  could  not  have  held  the  wood  against  them."  He  was 
always  confident  that  he  could  have  made  good  that  post  until 
joined  by  the  Prussians,  upon  whose  co-operation  he  through- 
out depended. 

As  has  been  already  mentioned,  the  Prussians,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  i8th,  were  at  Wavre,  about  twelve  miles  to  the  east 
of  the  field  of  battle  at  Waterloo.  The  junction  of  Bulow's  di- 
vision had  more  than  made  up  for  the  loss  sustained  at  Ligny ; 
and  leaving  Thielman,  with  about  17,000  men,  to  hold  his 
ground  as  he  best  could  against  the  attack  which  Grouchy  was 
about  to  make  on  Wavre,  Bulow  and  Blucher  moved  with  the 
rest  of  the  Prussians  through  St.  Lambert  upon  Waterloo.  It 
was  calculated  that  they  would  be  there  by  three  o'clock ;  but 
the  extremely  difficult  nature  of  the  ground  which  they  had  to 
traverse,  rendered  worse  by  the  torrents  of  rain  that  had  just 
fallen,  delayed  them  long  on  their  twelve  miles  march. 

An  army,  indeed,  less  animated  by  bitter  hate  against  the 
enemy  than  were  the  Prussians  and  under  a  less  energetic  chief 
than  Bliicher,  would  have  failed  altogether  in  effecting  a  passage 
through  the  swamps  into  which  the  incessant  rain  had  trans- 
formed the  greater  part  of  the  ground  through  which  it  was 
necessary  to  move,  not  only  with  columns  of  foot,  but  with 
cavalry  and  artillery.  At  one  point  of  the  march,  on  entering 
the  defile  of  St.  Lambert,  the  spirits  of  the  Prussians  almost  gave 
way.  Exhausted  in  the  attempts  to  extricate  and  drag  forward 
the  heavy  guns,  the  men  began  to  murmur.  Bliicher  came  to 
the  spot  and  heard  cries  from  the  ranks  of  "  We  cannot  get  on." 
"  But  you  must  get  on,"  was  the  old  field-marshal's  answer. 
"  I  have  pledged  my  word  to  Wellington,  and  you  surelv  will 
not  make  me  break  it.     Only  exert  yourselves  for  a  few  hours 


BATTLE    OF    WATERLOO  365 

longer,  and  we  are  sure  of  victory."  This  appeal  from  old 
"  Marshal  Forwards,"  as  the  Prussian  soldiers  loved  to  call 
Bliicher,  had  its  wonted  effect.  The  Prussians  again  moved 
forward,  slowly,  indeed,  and  with  pain  and  toil;  but  still  they 
moved  forward. 

The  French  and  British  armies  lay  on  the  open  field  during 
the  wet  and  stormy  night  of  the  17th;  and  when  the  dawn  of 
the  memorable  i8th  of  June  broke,  the  rain  was  still  descending 
heavily  upon  Waterloo.  The  rival  nations  rose  from  their  dreary 
bivouacs  and  began  to  form,  each  on  the  high  ground  which  it 
occupied.  Towards  nine  the  weather  grew  clearer,  and  each 
army  was  able  to  watch  the  position  and  arrangements  of  the 
other  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  drew  up  his  army  in  two  lines,  the 
principal  one  being  stationed  near  the  crest  of  the  ridge  of  hills 
already  described,  and  the  other  being  arranged  along  the  slope 
in  the  rear  of  his  position.  Commencing  from  the  eastward,  on 
the  extreme  left  of  the  first  or  main  line,  were  Vivian's  and 
Vandeleur's  brigades  of  light  cavalry,  and  the  fifth  Hanoverian 
brigade  of  infantry  under  Von  Vincke.  Then  came  Best's  fourth 
Hanoverian  brigade.  Detachments  from  these  bodies  of  troops 
occupied  the  little  villages  of  Papelotte  and  La  Haye,  down  the 
hollow  in  advance  of  the  left  of  the  duke's  position.  To  the  right 
of  Best's  Hanoverians,  Bylandt's  brigade  of  Dutch  and  Belgian 
infantry  was  drawn  up  on  the  outer  slope  of  the  heights.  Be- 
hind them  were  the  ninth  brigade  of  British  infantry  under 
Pack;  and  to  the  right  of  these  last,  but  more  in  advance,  stood 
the  eighth  brigade  of  English  infantry  under  Kempt.  These 
were  close  to  the  Charleroi  road  and  to  the  centre  of  the  entire 
position.  These  two  English  brigades,  with  the  fifth  Hanove- 
rian, made  up  the  fifth  division,  commanded  by  Sir  Thomas 
Picton.  Immediately  to  their  right,  and  westward  of  the  Char- 
leroi road,  stood  the  third  division,  commanded  by  General 
Alten,  and  consisting  of  Ompteda's  brigade  of  the  king's  Ger- 
man Legion  and  Kielmansegge's  Hanoverian  brigade.  The 
important  post  of  La  Haye  Sainte,  which,  it  will  be  remembered, 
lay  in  front  of  the  duke's  centre,  close  to  the  Charleroi  road, 
was  garrisoned  with  troops  from  this  division.  Westward,  and 
on  the  right  of  Kielmansegge's  Hanoverians,  stood  the  fifth 
brigade  under  Halkett;  and  behind,  Kruse's  Nassau  brigade 
was  posted.    On  the  right  of  Halkett's  men  stood  the  English 


366  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Guards.  They  were  in  two  brigades,  one  commanded  by  Mait- 
land  and  the  other  by  Byng.  The  entire  division  was  under 
General  Cooke.  The  buildings  and  gardens  of  Hougoumont, 
which  lay  immediately  under  the  height  on  which  stood  the 
British  Guards,  were  principally  manned  by  detachments  from 
Byng's  brigade,  aided  by  some  brave  Hanoverian  riflemen  and 
accompanied  by  a  battalion  of  a  Nassau  regiment.  On  a  plateau 
in  the  rear  of  Cooke's  division  of  Guards,  and  inclining  west- 
ward towards  the  village  of  Merk  Braine,  were  Clinton's  second 
infantry  division,  composed  of  Adams's  third  brigade  of  light 
infantry,  Du  Plat's  first  brigade  of  the  king's  German  Legion, 
and  third  Hanoverian  brigade  under  Colonel  Halkett. 

The  duke  formed  his  second  line  of  cavalry.  This  only  ex- 
tended behind  the  right  and  centre  of  his  first  line.  The  largest 
mass  was  drawn  up  behind  the  brigades  of  infantry  in  the  cen- 
tre, on  either  side  of  the  Charleroi  road.  The  brigade  of  house- 
hold cavalry  under  Lord  Somerset  was  on  the  immediate  right 
of  the  road,  and  on  the  left  of  it  was  Ponsonby's  brigade.  Behind 
these  were  Trip's  and  Ghingy's  brigades  of  Dutch  and  Belgian 
horse.  The  third  Hussars  of  the  king's  German  Legion  were 
to  the  right  of  Somerset's  brigade.  To  the  right  of  these,  and 
behind  Maitland's  infantry,  stood  the  third  brigade  under  Dorn- 
berg,  consisting  of  the  twenty-third  English  light  dragoons  and 
the  regiments  of  light  dragoons  of  the  king's  German  Legion. 
The  last  cavalry  on  the  right  was  Grant's  brigade,  stationed  in 
the  rear  of  the  Foot  Guards.  The  corps  of  Brunswickers,  both 
horse  and  foot,  and  the  tenth  British  brigade  of  foot  were  in 
reserve  behind  the  centre  and  right  of  the  entire  position.  The 
artillery  was  distributed  at  convenient  intervals  along  the  front 
of  the  whole  line.  Besides  the  generals  who  have  been  men- 
tioned, Lord  Hill,  Lord  Uxbridge  (who  had  the  general  com- 
mand of  the  cavalry),  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and  General  Chasse 
were  present  and  acting  under  the  Duke.* 

On  the  opposite  heights  the  French  army  was  drawn  up  in 

*  Prince  Frederick's  force  remained  at  Hal,  and  took  no  part  in  the 
battle  of  the  i8th.  The  reason  for  this  arrangement  (which  has  been 
much  cavilled  at)  may  best  be  given  in  the  words  of  Baron  Muffling: 
"  The  Duke  had  retired  from  Quatre  Bras  in  three  columns,  by  three 
chaussees;  and  on  the  evening  of  the  17th,  Prince  Frederick  of  Orange 
was  at  Hal,  Lord  Hill  at  Braine  I'Alleud,  and  the  Prince  of  Orange 
with  the  reserve  at  Mont  St.  Jean.  This  distribution  was  necessary,  as 
Napoleon  could  dispose  of  these  three  roads  for  his  advance  on  Brussels. 
Napoleon  on  the  17th  had  pressed  on  by  Genappe  as  far  as  Rossomme. 


BATTLE    OF    WATERLOO  367 

two  general  lines,  with  the  entire  force  of  the  Imperial  Guards, 
cavalry  as  well  as  infantry,  in  rear  of  the  centre,  as  a  reserve. 

The  first  line  of  the  French  army  was  formed  of  the  two  corps 
commanded  by  Count  d'Erlon  and  Count  Reille.  D'Erlon's 
corps  was  on  the  right,  that  is,  eastward  of  the  Charleroi  road, 
and  consisted  of  four  divisions  of  infantry  under  Generals 
Durette,  Marcognet,  Alix,  and  Donzelot,  and  of  one  division 
of  light  cavalry  under  General  Jaquinot.  Count  Reille's  corps 
formed  the  left  or  western  wing,  and  was  formed  of  Bachelu's, 
Foy's,  and  Jerome  Bonaparte's  divisions  of  infantry  and  of  Fire's 
division  of  cavalry.  The  right  wing  of  the  second  general 
French  line  was  formed  of  Milhaud's  corps,  consisting  of  two 
divisions  of  heavy  cavalry.  The  left  wing  of  this  line  was  formed 
by  Kellermann's  cavalry  corps,  also  in  two  divisions.  Thus  each 
of  the  corps  of  infantry  that  composed  the  first  line  had  a  corps 
of  cavalry  behind  it;  but  the  second  line  consisted  also  of  Lobau's 
corps  of  infantry  and  Domont  and  Subervie's  divisions  of  light 
cavalry ;  these  three  bodies  of  troops  being  drawn  up  on  either 
side  of  La  Belle  Alliance  and  forming  the  centre  of  the  second 
line.  The  third,  or  reserve,  line  had  its  centre  composed  of  the 
infantry  of  the  Imperial  Guard.  Two  regiments  of  grenadiers 
and  two  of  chasseurs  formed  the  foot  of  the  Old  Guard  under 
General  Friant.  The  Middle  Guard,  under  Count  Morand,  was 
similarly  composed;  while  two  regiments  of  voltigeurs  and  two 
of  tirailleurs,  under  Duhesme,  constituted  the  Young  Guard. 

On  the  two  other  roads  no  enemy  had  yet  shown  himself.  On  the  i8th 
the  offensive  was  taken  by  Napoleon  on  its  greatest  scale,  but  still  the 
Nivelles  road  was  not  overstepped  by  his  left  wing.  These  circum- 
stances made  it  possible  to  draw  Prince  Frederick  to  the  army,  which 
would  certainly  have  been  done  if  entirely  new  circumstances  had  not 
arisen.  The  duke  had,  twenty-four  hours  before,  pledged  himself  to 
accept  a  battle  at  Mont  St.  Jean  if  Bliicher  would  assist  him  there  with 
one  corps  of  25,000  men.  This  being  promised,  the  duke  was  taking  his 
measures  for  defence,  when  he  learned  that,  in  addition  to  the  one  corps 
promised,  Bliicher  was  actually  already  on  the  march  with  his  whole 
force,  to  break  in  by  Planchenoit  on  Napoleon's  flank  and  rear.  If 
three  corps  of  the  Prussian  army  should  penetrate  by  the  unguarded 
plateau  of  Rossomme.  which  was  not  improbable.  Napoleon  would  be 
thrust  from  his  line  of  retreat  by  Genappe,  and  might  possibly  lose  even 
that  by  Nivelles.  In  this  case  Prince  Frederick,  with  his  18,000  men 
(who  might  be  counted  superfluous  at  Mont  St.  Jean),  might  have 
rendered  the  most  essential  service.''  See  Muffling,  p.  246.  and  the 
Quarterly  Review,  No.  178.  It  is  also  worthy  of  observation  that 
Napoleon  actually  detached  a  force  of  2,000  cavalry  to  threaten  Hal, 
though  they  returned  to  the  main  French  army  during  the  night  of 
the  17th. 


368  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

The  chasseurs  and  lancers  of  the  Guard  were  on  the  right  of 
the  infantry,  under  Lefebvre  Desnouettes;  and  the  grenadiers 
and  dragoons  of  the  Guards,  under  Guyot,  were  on  the  left. 
All  the  French  corps  comprised,  besides  their  cavalry  and  in- 
fantry regiments,  strong  batteries  of  horse-artillery;  and  Na- 
poleon's numerical  superiority  in  guns  was  of  deep  importance 
throughout  the  action. 

Besides  the  leading  generals  who  have  been  mentioned  as 
commanding  particular  corps,  Ney  and  Soult  were  present,  and 
acted  as  the  emperor's  lieutenants  in  the  battle. 

English  military  critics  have  highly  eulogized  the  admirable 
arrangement  which  Napoleon  made  of  his  forces  of  each  arm, 
so  as  to  give  him  the  most  ample  means  of  sustaining,  by  an 
immediate  and  sufBcient  support,  any  attack,  from  whatever 
point  he  might  direct  it,  and  of  drawing  promptly  together  a 
strong  force,  to  resist  any  attack  that  might  be  made  on  himself 
in  any  part  of  the  field.*  When  his  troops  were  all  arrayed,  he 
rode  along  the  lines,  receiving  everywhere  the  most  enthusiastic 
cheers  from  his  men,  of  whose  entire  devotion  to  him  his  as- 
surance was  now  doubly  sure.  On  the  southern  side  of  the 
valley  the  duke's  army  was  also  arrayed,  and  ready  to  meet  the 
menaced  attack. 

Wellington  had  caused,  on  the  preceding  night,  every  brigade 
and  corps  to  take  up  its  station  on  or  near  the  part  of  the  ground 
which  it  was  intended  to  hold  in  the  coming  battle.  He  had 
slept  a  few  hours  at  his  headquarters  in  the  village  of  Waterloo; 
and  rising  on  the  i8th,  while  it  was  yet  deep  night,  he  wrote 
several  letters,  to  the  Governor  of  Antwerp,  to  the  English  Min- 
ister at  Brussels,  and  other  ofBcial  personages,  in  which  he  ex- 
pressed his  confidence  that  all  would  go  well;  but,  "  as  it  was 
necessary  to  provide  against  serious  losses  should  any  accident 
occur,"  he  gave  a  series  of  judicious  orders  for  what  should  be 
done  in  the  rear  of  the  army  in  the  event  of  the  battle  going 
against  the  Allies.  He  also,  before  he  left  the  village  of  Water- 
loo, saw  to  the  distribution  of  the  reserves  of  ammunition  which 
had  been  parked  there,  so  that  supplies  should  be  readily  for- 
warded to  every  part  of  the  line  of  battle  where  they  might  be 
required.  The  duke,  also,  personally  inspected  the  arrangements 
that  had  been  made  for  receiving  the  wounded  and  providing 

*  Siborne,  vol.  i.,  p.  376. 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  369 

temporary  hospitals  in  the  houses  in  the  rear  of  the  army.  Then, 
mounting  a  favorite  charger,  a  small  thoroughbred  chestnut 
horse,  named  "  Copenhagen,"  Wellington  rode  forward  to  the 
range  of  hills  where  his  men  were  posted.  Accompanied  by 
his  staff  and  by  the  Prussian  General  IMiiffling,  he  rode  along 
his  lines,  carefully  inspecting  all  the  details  of  his  position. 
Hougoumont  was  the  object  of  his  special  attention.  He  rode 
down  to  the  southeastern  extremity  of  its  enclosures,  and,  after 
having  examined  the  nearest  French  troops,  he  made  some 
changes  in  the  disposition  of  his  own  men  who  were  to  defend 
that  important  post. 

Having  given  his  final  orders  about  Hougoumont,  the  duke 
galloped  back  to  the  high  ground  in  the  right  centre  of  his 
position,  and,  halting  there,  sat  watching  the  enemy  on  the 
opposite  heights  and  conversing  with  his  staff  with  that  cheer- 
ful serenity  which  was  ever  his  characteristic  in  the  hour  of 
battle. 

Not  all  brave  men  are  thus  gifted;  and  many  a  glance  of 
anxious  excitement  must  have  been  cast  across  the  valley  that 
separated  the  two  hosts  during  the  protracted  pause  which  en- 
sued between  the  completion  of  Napoleon's  preparations  for 
attack  and  the  actual  commencement  of  the  contest.  It  was, 
indeed,  an  awful  calm  before  the  coming  storm,  when  armed 
myriads  stood  gazing  on  their  armed  foes,  scanning  their  num- 
ber, their  array,  their  probable  powers  of  resistance  and  destruc- 
tion, and  listening  with  throbbing  hearts  for  the  momentarily 
expected  note  of  death ;  while  visions  of  victory  and  glory  came 
thronging  on  each  soldier's  high-strung  brain,  not  unmingled 
with  recollections  of  the  home  which  his  fall  might  soon  leave 
desolate,  nor  without  shrinking  nature  sometimes  prompting 
the  cold  thought  that  in  a  few  moments  he  might  be  writhing 
in  agony,  or  lie  a  trampled  and  mangled  mass  of  clay  on  the 
grass  now  waving  so  freshly  and  purely  before  him. 

Such  thoughts  will  arise  in  human  breasts,  though  the  brave 
man  soon  silences  "  the  child  within  us  that  trembles  before 
death,"  and  nerves  himself  for  the  coming  struggle  by  the  men- 
tal preparation  which  Xenophon  has  finely  called  "  the  soldier's 
arraying  his  own  soul  for  battle."  Well,  too,  may  we  hope  and 
believe  that  many  a  spirit  sought  aid  from  a  higher  and  holier 
source,  and  that  many  a  fervent,  though  silent,  prayer  arose  on 

that  Sabbath  morn^(the  battle  of  Waterloo  was  fought  on  a 
24 


370 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Sunday)  to  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth,  the  God  of  Battles,  from  the 
ranks  whence  so  many  thousands  were  about  to  appear  that  day 
before  his  judgment-seat. 

Not  only  to  those  who  were  thus  present  as  spectators  and 
actors  in  the  dread  drama,  but  to  all  Europe,  the  decisive  con- 
test then  impending  between  the  rival  French  and  English 
nations,  each  under  its  chosen  chief,  was  the  object  of  exciting 
interest  and  deepest  solicitude.  "  Never,  indeed,  had  two  such 
generals  as  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  the  Emperor  Napoleon 
encountered  since  the  day  when  Scipio  and  Hannibal  met  at 
Zama." 

The  two  great  champions  who  now  confronted  each  other 
were  equals  in  years,  and  each  had  entered  the  military  pro- 
fession at  the  same  early  age.  The  more  conspicuous  stage  on 
which  the  French  general's  youthful  genius  was  displayed,  his 
heritage  of  the  whole  military  power  of  the  French  republic, 
the  position  on  which  for  years  he  was  elevated  as  sovereign 
head  of  an  empire  surpassing  that  of  Charlemagne,  and  the 
dazzling  results  of  his  victories,  which  made  and  unmade  kings, 
had  given  him  a  formidable  pre-eminence  in  the  eyes  of  man- 
kind. Military  men  spoke  with  justly  rapturous  admiration  of 
the  brilliancy  of  his  first  Italian  campaigns,  when  he  broke 
through  the  pedantry  of  traditional  tactics  and  with  a  small  but 
promptly  wielded  force  shattered  army  after  army  of  the  Aus- 
trians,  conquered  provinces  and  capitals,  dictated  treaties,  and 
annihilated  or  created  states.  The  iniquity  of  his  Egyptian  ex- 
pedition was  too  often  forgotten  in  contemplating  the  skill  and 
boldness  with  which  he  destroyed  the  Mameluke  cavalry  at  the 
Pyramids  and  the  Turkish  infantry  at  Aboukir.  None  could 
forget  the  marvellous  passage  of  the  Alps  in  1800,  or  the  victory 
of  Marengo,  which  wrested  Italy  back  from  Austria  and  de- 
stroyed the  fruit  of  twenty  victories  which  the  enemies  of  France 
had  gained  over  her  in  the  absence  of  her  favorite  chief.  Even 
higher  seemed  the  glories  of  his  German  campaigns,  the  tri- 
umphs of  Ulm,  of  Austerlitz,  of  Jena,  of  Wagram.  Napoleon's 
disasters  in  Russia,  in  1812,  were  imputed  by  his  admirers  to 
the  elements;  his  reverses  in  Germany,  in  1813,  were  attributed 
by  them  to  treachery;  and  even  those  two  calamitous  years  had 
been  signalized  by  his  victories  at  Borodino,  at  Lutzen,  at  Baut- 
zen, at  Dresden,  and  at  Hanau.  His  last  campaign,  in  the  early 
months  of  18 14,  was  rightly  cited  as  the  most  splendid  exhibi- 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO 


371 


tioii  of  his  military  genius,  when,  with  a  far  inferior  army,  he 
long  checked  and  frequently  defeated  the  vast  hosts  that  were 
poured  upon  France.  His  followers  fondly  hoped  that  the  cam- 
paign of  181 5  would  open  with  another  "  week  of  miracles,"  like 
that  which  had  seen  his  victories  at  Montmirail  and  Montereau. 
The  laurel  of  Ligny  was  even  now  fresh  upon  his  brows. 
Bliicher  had  not  stood  before  him ;  and  who  was  the  adversary 
that  now  should  bar  the  emperor's  way? 

That  adversary  had  already  overthrown  the  emperor's  best 
generals  and  the  emperor's  best  armies,  and,  like  Napoleon  him- 
self, had  achieved  a  reputation  in  more  than  European  wars. 
Wellington  was  illustrious  as  the  destroyer  of  the  Mahratta 
power,  as  the  liberator  of  Portugal  and  Spain,  and  the  successful 
invader  of  Southern  France.    In  early  youth  he  had  held  high 
command  in  India,  and  had  displayed  eminent  skill  in  planning 
and  combining  movements,  and  unrivalled  celerity  and  bold- 
ness in  execution.    On  his  return  to  Europe,  several  years  passed 
away  before  any  fitting  opportunity  was  accorded  for  the  exer- 
cise of  his  genius.    In  this  important  respect,  Wellington,  as  a 
subject,  and  Napoleon,  as  a  sovereign,  were  far  differently  situ- 
ated.   At  length  his  appointment  to  the  command  in  the  Spanish 
Peninsula  gave  him  the  means  of  showing  Europe  that  England 
had  a  general  who  could  revive  the  glories  of  Crecy,  of  Poitiers, 
of  Agincourt,  of  Blenheim,  and  of  Ramillies.    At  the  head  of 
forces  always  numerically  far  inferior  to  the  armies  with  which 
Napoleon  deluged  the  Peninsula;   thwarted  by  jealous  and  in- 
competent allies;  ill  supported  by  friends  and  assailed  by  factious 
enemies  at  home,  Wellington  maintained  the  war  for  seven 
years,  unstained  by  any  serious  reverse,  and  marked  by  victory 
in  thirteen  pitched  battles,  at  Vimiera,  the  Douro,  Talavera, 
Busaco,  Fuentes  de  Onoro,  Salamanca,  Vittoria,  the  Pyrenees, 
the  Bidassoa,  the  Nive,  the  Nivelle,  Orthes,  and  Toulouse. 
Junot,  Victor,  Massena,  Ney,  Marmont,  and  Jourdan — mar- 
shals whose  names  were  the  terror  of  Continental  Europe — had 
been  baffled  by  his  skill  and  smitten  down  by  his  energy^  while 
he  liberated  the  kingdoms  of  the  Peninsula  from  them  and  their 
imperial  master.    In  vain  did  Napoleon  at  last  despatch  Soult, 
the  ablest  of  his  lieutenants,  to  turn  the  tide  of  Wellington's 
success  and  defend  France  against  the  English  invader.    Wel- 
ington  met  Soult's  manoeuvres  with  superior  skill,  and  his  bold- 
ness with  superior  vigor.    When  Napoleon's  first  abdication,  in 


372 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


1814,  suspended  hostilities,  Wellington  was  master  of  the  fairest 
districts  of  Southern  France,  and  had  under  him  a  veteran  army 
with  which  (to  use  his  own  expressive  phrase)  "  he  felt  he  could 
have  gone  anywhere  and  done  anything."  The  fortune  of  war 
had  hitherto  kept  separate  the  orbits  in  which  Napoleon  and  he 
had  moved.  Now,  on  the  ever-memorable  i8th  of  June,  181 5, 
they  met  at  last. 

It  is,  indeed,  remarkable  that  Napoleon,  during  his  numerous 
campaigns  in  Spain  as  well  as  other  countries,  not  only  never 
encountered  the  Duke  of  Wellington  before  the  day  of  Water- 
loo, but  that  he  was  never  until  then  personally  engaged  with 
British  troops,  except  at  the  siege  of  Toulon,  in  1793,  which 
was  the  very  first  incident  of  his  military  career.  Many,  how- 
ever, of  the  French  generals  who  were  with  him  in  181 5  knew 
well,  by  sharp  experience,  what  English  soldiers  were  and  what 
the  leader  was  who  now  headed  them.  Ney,  Foy,  and  other 
officers  who  had  served  in  the  Peninsula  warned  Napoleon  that 
he  would  find  the  English  infantry  "  very  devils  in  fight."  The 
emperor,  however,  persisted  in  employing  the  old  system  of  at- 
tack, with  which  the  French  generals  often  succeeded  against 
Continental  troops  but  which  had  always  failed  against  the  Eng- 
lish in  the  Peninsula.  He  adhered  to  his  usual  tactics  of  em- 
ploying the  order  of  the  column,  a  mode  of  attack  probably 
favored  by  him  (as  Sir  Walter  Scott  remarks)  on  account  of  his 
faith  in  the  extreme  valor  of  the  French  officers  by  whom  the 
column  was  headed.  It  is  a  threatening  formation,  well  calcu- 
lated to  shake  the  firmness  of  ordinary  foes,  but  which,  when 
steadily  met,  as  the  English  have  met  it,  by  heavy  volleys  of 
musketry  from  an  extended  line,  followed  up  by  a  resolute  bayo- 
net charge,  has  always  resulted  in  disaster  to  the  assailants.* 

It  was  approaching  noon  before  the  action  commenced.  Na- 
poleon, in  his  memoirs,  gives  as  the  reason  for  this  delay,  the 
miry  state  of  the  ground  through  the  heavy  rain  of  the  preced- 
ing night  and  day,  which  rendered  it  impossible  for  cavalry  or 
artillery  to  manoeuvre  on  it  till  a  few  hours  of  dry  weather  had 
given  it  its  natural  consistency.    It  has  been  supposed,  also,  that 

*  See  especially  Sir  W.  Napier's  glorious  pictures  of  the  battles  of 
Busaco  and  Albuera.  The  theoretical  advantages  of  the  attack  in 
column,  and  its  peculiar  fitness  for  a  French  army,  are  set  forth  in  the 
Chevalier  Folard's  "  Traite  de  la  Colonne,"  prefixed  to  the  first  volume 
of  his  "  Polybius."     See  also  the  preface  to  the  sixth  volume. 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  373 

he  trusted  to  the  effect  which  the  sight  of  the  imposing  array  of 
his  own  forces  was  Hkely  to  produce  on  the  part  of  the  aUied 
army.  The  Belgian  regiments  had  been  tampered  with ;  and 
Napoleon  had  well-founded  hopes  of  seeing  them  quit  the  Duke 
of  Wellington  in  a  body,  and  range  themselves  under  his  own 
eagles.  The  duke,  however,  who  knew  and  did  not  trust  them, 
had  guarded  against  the  risk  of  this  by  breaking  up  the  corps 
of  Belgians,  and  distributing  them  in  separate  regiments  among 
troops  on  whom  he  could  rely. 

At  last,  at  about  half-past  eleven  o'clock,  Napoleon  began 
the  battle  by  directing  a  powerful  force  from  his  left  wing  under 
his  brother,  Prince  Jerome,  to  attack  Hougoumont.  Column 
after  column  of  the  French  now  descended  from  the  west  of  the 
southern  heights,  and  assailed  that  post  with  fiery  valor,  which 
was  encountered  with  the  most  determined  bravery.  The 
French  won  the  copse  round  the  house,  but  a  party  of  the  Brit- 
ish Guards  held  the  house  itself  throughout  the  day.  The 
whole  of  Byng's  brigade  was  required  to  man  this  hotly  con- 
tested post.  Amid  shell  and  shot,  and  the  blazing  fragments 
of  part  of  the  buildings,  this  obstinate  contest  was  continued. 
But  still  the  English  were  firm  at  Hougoumont,  though  the 
French  occasionally  moved  forward  in  such  numbers  as  en- 
abled them  to  surround  and  mask  this  post  with  part  of  their 
troops  from  their  left  wing,  while  others  pressed  onward  up 
the  slope,  and  assailed  the  British  right. 

The  cannonade,  which  commenced  at  first  between  the  Brit- 
ish right  and  the  French  left,  in  consequence  of  the  attack  on 
Hougoumont,  soon  became  general  along  both  lines ;  and 
about  one  o'clock  Napoleon  directed  a  grand  attack  to  be  made 
under  Marshal  Ney  upon  the  centre  and  left  wing  of  the  allied 
army.  For  this  purpose  four  columns  of  infantry,  amounting 
to  about  18,000  men,  were  collected,  supported  by  a  strong 
division  of  cavalry  under  the  celebrated  Kellermann,  and  seven- 
ty-four guns  were  brought  forward  ready  to  be  posted  on  the 
ridge  of  a  little  undulation  of  the  ground  in  the  interval  be- 
tween the  two  principal  chains  of  heights,  so  as  to  bring  their 
fire  to  bear  on  the  duke's  line  at  a  range  of  about  seven  hundred 
yards.  By  the  combined  assault  of  these  formidable  forces,  led 
on  by  Ney,  "  the  bravest  of  the  brave,"  Napoleon  hoped  to 
force  the  left  centre  of  the  British  position,  to  take  La  Haye 
Sainte,  and  then,  pressing  forward,  to  occupy  also  the  farm  of 


374 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Mont  St.  Jean.  He  then  could  cut  the  mass  of  Wellington's 
troops  off  from  their  line  of  retreat  upon  Brussels,  and  from 
their  own  left,  and  also  completely  sever  them  from  any  Prus- 
sian troops  that  might  be  approaching. 

The  columns  destined  for  this  great  and  decisive  operation 
descended  majestically  from  the  French  range  of  hills,  and 
gained  the  ridge  of  the  intervening  eminence,  on  which  the  bat- 
teries that  supported  them  were  now  ranged.  As  the  columns 
descended  again  from  this  eminence,  the  seventy-four  guns 
opened  over  their  heads  with  terrible  effect  upon  the  troops  of 
the  allies  that  were  stationed  on  the  heights  to  the  left  of  the 
Charleroi  road.  One  of  the  French  columns  kept  to  the  east, 
and  attacked  the  extreme  left  of  the  allies;  the  other  three 
continued  to  move  rapidly  forward  upon  the  left  centre  of  the 
allied  position.  The  front  line  of  the  allies  here  was  com- 
posed of  Bylandt's  brigade  of  Dutch  and  Belgians.  As  the 
French  columns  moved  up  the  southward  slope  of  the  height  on 
which  the  Dutch  and  Belgians  stood,  and  the  skirmishers  in 
advance  began  to  open  their  fire,  Bylandt's  entire  brigade 
turned  and  fled  in  disgraceful  and  disorderly  panic ;  but  there 
were  men  more  worthy  of  the  name  behind. 

In  this  part  of  the  second  line  of  the  allies  were  posted  Pack 
and  Kempt's  brigades  of  English  infantry,  which  had  suffered 
severely  at  Quatre  Bras.  But  Picton  was  here  as  general  of 
division,  and  not  even  Ney  himself  surpassed  in  resolute  bravery 
that  stern  and  fiery  spirit.  Picton  brought  his  two  brigades 
forward,  side  by  side,  in  a  thin,  two-deep  line.  Thus  joined  to- 
gether, they  were  not  three  thousand  strong.  With  these  Picton 
had  to  make  head  against  the  three  victorious  French  columns, 
upwards  of  four  times  that  strength,  and  who,  encouraged  by 
the  easy  rout  of  the  Dutch  and  Belgians,  now  came  confidently 
over  the  ridge  of  the  hill.  The  British  infantry  stood  firm ;  and 
as  the  French  halted  and  began  to  deploy  into  line,  Picton  seized 
the  critical  moment.  He  shouted  in  his  stentorian  voice  to 
Kempt's  brigade:  "  A  volley,  and  then  charge!  "  At  a  distance 
of  less  than  thirty  yards  that  volley  was  poured  upon  the  de- 
voted first  sections  of  the  nearest  column;  and  then,  with  a  fierce 
hurrah,  the  British  dashed  in  with  the  bayonet.  Picton  was 
shot  dead  as  he  rushed  forward,  but  his  men  pushed  on  with 
the  cold  steel.  The  French  reeled  back  in  confusion.  Pack's 
infantry  had  checked  the  other  two  columns,  and  down  came  a 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  375 

whirlwind  of  British  horse  on  the  whole  mass,  sending  them 
staggering  from  the  crest  of  the  hill  and  cutting  them  down  by 
whole  battalions.  Ponsonby's  brigade  of  heavy  cavalry  (the 
Union  Brigade,  as  it  was  called,  from  its  being  made  up  of  the 
British  Royals,  the  Scotch  Greys,  and  the  Irish  Inniskillings) 
did  this  good  service.  On  went  the  horsemen  amid  the  wrecks 
of  the  French  columns,  capturing  two  eagles  and  two  thousand 
prisoners ;  onward  still  they  galloped,  and  sabred  the  artillery- 
men of  Ney's  seventy-four  advanced  guns;  then  severing  the 
traces  and  cutting  the  throats  of  the  artillery  horses,  they  ren- 
dered these  guns  totally  useless  to  the  French  throughout  the 
remainder  of  the  day.  While  thus  far  advanced  beyond  the 
British  position  and  disordered  by  success,  they  were  charged 
by  a  large  body  of  French  lancers  and  driven  back  with  severe 
loss,  till  Vandeleur's  light-horse  came  to  their  aid  and  beat  off 
the  French  lancers  in  their  turn. 

Equally  unsuccessful  with  the  advance  of  the  French  infantry 
in  this  grand  attack  had  been  the  efforts  of  the  French  cavalry 
who  moved  forward  in  support  of  it,  along  the  east  of  the  Charle- 
roi  road.  Somerset's  cavalry  of  the  English  Household  Brigade 
had  been  launched,  on  the  right  of  Picton's  division,  against  the 
French  horse,  at  the  same  time  that  the  English  Union  Brigade 
of  heavy-horse  charged  the  French  infantry  columns  on  the  left. 

Somerset's  brigade  was  formed  of  the  Life  Guards,  the  Blues, 
and  the  Dragoon  Guards.  The  hostile  cavalry,  which  Keller- 
mann  led  forward,  consisted  chiefly  of  cuirassiers.  This  steel- 
clad  mass  of  French  horsemen  rode  down  some  companies  of 
German  infantry  near  La  Haye  Sainte  and,  flushed  with  success, 
they  bounded  onward  to  the  ridge  of  the  British  position.  The 
English  Household  Brigade,  led  on  by  the  Earl  of  Uxbridge  in 
person,  spurred  forward  to  the  encounter,  and  in  an  instant  the 
two  adverse  lines  of  strong  swordsmen  on  their  strong  steeds 
dashed  furiously  together.  A  desperate  and  sanguinary  hand- 
to-hand  fight  ensued,  in  which  the  physical  superiority  of  the 
Anglo-Saxons,  guided  by  equal  skill  and  animated  with  equal 
valor,  was  made  decisively  manifest.  Back  went  the  chosen  cav- 
alry of  France ;  and  after  them.  In  hot  pursuit,  spurred  the  Eng- 
lish Guards.  They  went  forward  as  far  and  as  fiercely  as  their 
comrades  of  the  Union  Brigade  ;  and,  like  them,  the  Household 
cavalry  suffered  severely  before  they  regained  the  British  posi- 
tion, after  their  magnificent  charge  and  adventurous  pursuit. 


376  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Napoleon's  grand  effort  to  break  the  English  left  centre  had 
thus  completely  failed ;  and  his  right  wing  was  seriously  weak- 
ened by  the  heavy  loss  which  it  had  sustained.  Hougoumont 
was  still  being  assailed,  and  was  still  successfully  resisting. 
Troops  were  now  beginning  to  appear  at  the  edge  of  the  hori- 
zon on  Napoleon's  right,  which  he  too  well  knew  to  be  Prus- 
sian, though  he  endeavored  to  persuade  his  followers  that  they 
were  Grouchy's  men  coming  to  their  aid. 

Grouchy  was,  in  fact,  now  engaged  at  Wavre  with  his  whole 
force  against  Thielman's  single  Prussian  corps,  while  the  other 
three  corps  of  the  Prussian  army  were  moving  without  opposi- 
tion, save  from  the  difficulties  of  the  ground,  upon  Waterloo. 
Grouchy  believed,  on  the  17th,  and  caused  Napoleon  to  believe, 
that  the  Prussian  army  was  retreating  by  lines  of  march  remote 
from  Waterloo  upon  Namur  and  Maestricht.  Napoleon  learned 
only  on  the  i8th  that  there  were  Prussians  in  Wavre,  and  felt 
jealous  about  the  security  of  his  own  right.  He  accordingly, 
before  he  attacked  the  English,  sent  Grouchy  orders  to  engage 
the  Prussians  at  Wavre  without  delay,  and  to  approach  the 
main  French  army,  so  as  to  unite  his  communication  with  the 
emperor's.  Grouchy  entirely  neglected  this  last  part  of  his  in- 
structions; and  in  attacking  the  Prussians  whom  he  found  at 
Wavre,  he  spread  his  force  more  and  more  towards  his  right, 
that  is  to  say,  in  the  direction  most  remote  from  Napoleon.  He 
thus  knew  nothing  of  Bliicher's  and  Bulow's  flank  march  upon 
Waterloo  till  six  in  the  evening  of  the  i8th,  when  he  received 
a  note  which  Soult,  by  Napoleon's  orders,  had  sent  off  from  the 
field  of  battle  at  Waterloo  at  one  o'clock,  to  inform  Grouchy 
that  Bulow  was  coming  over  the  heights  of  St.  Lambert,  on  the 
emperor's  right  flank,  and  directing  Grouchy  to  approach  and 
join  the  main  army  instantly,  and  crush  Bulow  en  flagrant  dclit. 
It  was  then  too  late  for  Grouchy  to  obey;  but  it  is  remarkable 
that  as  early  as  noon  on  the  i8th,  and  while  Grouchy  had  not 
proceeded  as  far  as  Wavre,  he  and  his  suite  heard  the  sound  of 
heavy  cannonading  in  the  direction  of  Planchenoit  and  Mont  St. 
Jean.  General  Gerard,  who  was  with  Grouchy,  implored  him 
to  march  towards  the  cannonade  and  join  his  operations  with 
those  of  Napoleon,  who  was  evidently  engaged  with  the  Eng- 
lish. Grouchy  refused  to  do  so  or  even  to  detach  part  of  his 
force  in  that  direction.  He  said  that  his  instructions  were  to 
fight  the  Prussians  at  Wavre.    He  marched  upon  Wavre,  and 


BATTLE   OF   WATERLOO  377 

fouglu  lor  the  rest  of  the  day  with  Thielman  accordingly,  while 
Bliicher  and  Bulow  were  attacking  the  emperor.* 

Napoleon  had  witnessed  with  bitter  disappointment  the  rout 
of  his  troops — foot,  horse,  and  artillery — which  attacked  the  left 
centre  of  the  English,  and  the  obstinate  resistance  which  the 
garrison  of  Hougoumont  opposed  to  all  the  exertions  of  his  left 
wing.  He  now  caused  the  batteries  along  the  Une  of  high  ground 
held  by  him  to  be  strengthened,  and  for  some  time  an  unre- 
mitting and  most  destructive  cannonade  raged  across  the  valley, 
to  the  partial  cessation  of  other  conflict.  But  the  superior  fire 
of  the  French  artillery,  though  it  weakened,  could  not  break 
the  British  line,  and  more  close  and  summary  measures  were 
requisite. 

It  was  now  about  half-past  three  o'clock;  and  though  Well- 
ington's army  had  suffered  severely  by  the  unremitting  can- 
nonade and  in  the  late  desperate  encounter,  no  part  of  the 
British  position  had  been  forced.  Napoleon  determined  to 
try  what  effect  he  could  produce  on  the  British  centre  and 
right  by  charges  of  his  splendid  cavalry,  brought  on  in  such 
force  that  the  duke's  cavalry  could  not  check  them.  Fresh 
troops  were  at  the  same  time  sent  to  assail  La  Haye  Sainte 

*  I  have  heard  the  remark  made  that  Grouchy  twice  had  in  his  hands 
the  power  of  changing  the  destinies  of  Europe,  and  twice  wanted  nerve 
to  act :  first,  when  he  flinched  from  landing  the  French  army  at  Bantry 
Bay  in  1796  (he  was  second  in  command  to  Hoche,  whose  ship  was 
blown  back  by  a  storm),  and,  secondly,  when  he  failed  to  lead  his  whole 
force  from  Wavre  to  the  scene  of  decisive  conflict  at  Waterloo.  But 
such  were  the  arrangements  of  the  Prussian  general  that  even  if  Grouchy 
had  marched  upon  Waterloo,  he  would  have  been  held  in  check  by  the 
nearest  Prussian  corps,  or  certainly  by  the  two  nearest  ones,  while  the 
rest  proceeded  to  join  Wellington.  This,  however,  would  have  dimin- 
ished the  number  of  Prussians  who  appeared  at  Waterloo,  and  (what 
is  still  more  important)  would  have  kept  them  back  to  a  later  hour. 

There  are  some  very  valuable  remarks  on  this  subject  in  an  article 
on  the  "  Life  of  Bliicher,"  usually  attributed  to  Sir  Francis  Head.  The 
Prussian  writer,  General  Clausewitz,  is  there  cited  as  "  expressing  a 
positive  opinion,  in  which  every  military  critic  but  a  Frenchman  must 
concur,  that,  even  had  the  whole  of  Grouchy's  force  been  at  Napoleon's 
disposal,  the  duke  had  nothing  to  fear  pending  Bliicher's  arrival. 

"  The  duke  is  often  talked  of  as  having  exhausted  his  reserves  in  the 
action.  This  is  another  gross  error,  which  Clausewitz  has  thoroughly 
disposed  of  (p.  125).  He  enumerates  the  tenth  British  brigade,  the 
division  of  Chasse,  and  the  cavalry  of  Collaert  as  having  been  little  or 
not  at  all  engaged;  and  he  might  have  also  added  two  brigades  of  light 
cavalry."  The  fact,  also,  that  Wellington  did  not  at  any  part  of  the 
day  order  up  Prince  Frederick's  corps  from  Hal  is  a  conclusive  proof 
that  the  duke  was  not  so  distressed  as  some  writers  have  represented. 
Hal  is  not  ten  miles  from  the  field  of  Waterloo." 


378  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

and  Hougoumont,  the  possession  of  these  posts  being  the  em- 
peror's unceasing  object.  Squadron  after  squadron  of  the 
French  cuirassiers  accordingly  ascended  the  slopes  on  the 
duke's  right,  and  rode  forward  with  dauntless  courage  against 
the  batteries  of  the  British  artillery  in  that  part  of  the  field. 
The  artillery-men  were  driven  from  their  guns,  and  the  cuiras- 
siers cheered  loudly  at  their  supposed  triumph.  But  the  duke 
had  formed  his  infantry  in  squares,  and  the  cuirassiers  charged 
in  vain  against  the  impenetrable  hedges  of  bayonets,  while  the 
fire  from  the  inner  ranks  of  the  squares  told  with  terrible  efifect 
on  their  squadrons.  Time  after  time  they  rode  forward  with 
invariably  the  same  result;  and  as  they  receded  from  each 
attack,  the  British  artillery-men  rushed  forward  from  the  cen- 
tres of  the  squares,  where  they  had  taken  refuge,  and  plied  their 
guns  on  the  retiring  horsemen.  Nearly  the  whole  of  Napo- 
leon's magnificent  body  of  heavy  cavalry  was  destroyed  in 
these  fruitless  attempts  upon  the  British  right.  But  in  anothee 
part  of  the  field  fortune  favored  him  for  a  time.  Two  French 
columns  of  infantry  from  Donzelot's  division  took  La  Haye 
Sainte  between  six  and  seven  o'clock,  and  the  means  were  now 
given  for  organizing  another  formidable  attack  on  the  centre  of 
the  allies. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost:  Bliicher  and  Bulow  were  be- 
ginning to  press  upon  the  French  right ;  as  early  as  five 
o'clock,  Napoleon  had  been  obliged  to  detach  Lobau's  infantry 
and  Domont's  horse  to  check  these  new  enemies.  They  suc- 
ceeded in  doing  so  for  a  time ;  but,  as  large  numbers  of  the 
Prussians  came  on  the  field,  they  turned  Lobau's  right  flank, 
and  sent  a  strong  force  to  seize  the  village  of  Planchenoit, 
which,  it  will  be  remembered,  lay  in  the  rear  of  the  French 
right. 

The  design  of  the  Allies  was  not  merely  to  prevent  Napoleon 
from  advancing  upon  Brussels,  but  to  cut  ofif  his  line  of  retreat 
and  utterly  destroy  his  army.  The  defence  of  Planchenoit  there- 
fore became  absolutely  essential  for  the  safety  of  the  French, 
and  Napoleon  was  obliged  to  send  his  Young  Guard  to  occupy 
that  village,  which  was  accordingly  held  by  them  with  great 
gallantry  against  the  reiterated  assaults  of  the  Prussian  left, 
under  Bulow.  Three  times  did  the  Prussians  fight  their  way 
into  Planchenoit,  and  as  often  did  the  French  drive  them  out; 
the  contest  was  maintained  with  the  fiercest  desperation  on  both 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  379 

sides,  such  being  the  animosity  between  the  two  nations  that 
quarter  was  seldom  given  or  even  asked.  Other  Prussian  forces 
were  now  appearing  on  the  field  nearer  to  the  English  left,  whom 
also  Napoleon  kept  in  check  by  troops  detached  for  that  pur- 
pose. Thus  a  large  part  of  the  French  army  was  now  thrown 
back  on  a  line  at  right  angles  with  the  line  of  that  portion  which 
still  confronted  and  assailed  the  English  position.  But  this  por- 
tion was  now  numerically  inferior  to  the  force  under  the  Duke 
of  Wellington,  which  Napoleon  had  been  assailing  throughout 
the  day,  without  gaining  any  other  advantage  than  the  capture 
of  La  Haye  Sainte.  It  is  true  that,  owing  to  the  gross  miscon- 
duct of  the  greater  part  of  the  Dutch  and  Belgian  troops,  the 
duke  was  obliged  to  rely  exclusively  on  his  English  and  Ger- 
man soldiers,  and  the  ranks  of  these  had  been  fearfully  thinned ; 
but  the  survivors  stood  their  ground  heroically,  and  opposed  a 
resolute  front  to  every  forward  movement  of  their  enemies. 

On  no  point  of  the  British  line  was  the  pressure  more  severe 
than  on  Halkett's  brigade  in  the  right  centre,  which  was  com- 
posed of  battaHons  of  the  30th,  the  33d,  the  69th,  and  the  73d 
British  regiments.  We  fortunately  can  quote  from  the  journal 
of  a  brave  officer  of  the  30th  a  narrative  of  what  took  place  in 
this  part  of  the  field.  The  late  Major  Macready  served  at  Water- 
loo in  the  light  company  of  the  30th.  The  extent  of  the  peril 
and  the  carnage  which  Halkett's  brigade  had  to  encounter  may 
be  judged  of  by  the  fact  that  this  light  company  marched  into 
the  field  three  officers  and  fifty-one  men,  and  that  at  the  end  of 
the  battle  they  stood  one  officer  and  ten  men.  Major  Ma- 
cready's  blunt,  soldierly  account  of  what  he  actually  saw  and 
felt  gives  a  far  better  idea  of  the  terrific  scene  than  can  be  gained 
from  the  polished  generalizations  which  the  conventional  style 
of  history  requires,  or  even  from  the  glowing  stanzas  of  the 
poet.  During  the  earlier  part  of  the  day  Macready  and  his 
light  company  were  thrown  forward  as  skirmishers  in  front  of 
the  brigade;  but  when  the  French  cavalry  commenced  their 
attacks  on  the  British  right  centre,  he  and  his  comrades  were 
ordered  back.  The  brave  soldier  thus  himself  describes  what 
passed : 

"  Before  the  commencement  of  this  attack  our  company  and 
the  grenadiers  of  the  73d  were  skirmishing  briskly  in  the  low 
ground,  covering  our  guns  and  annoying  those  of  the  enemy. 
The  line  of  tirailleurs  opposed  to  us  was  not  stronger  than  our 


380  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

own,  but  on  a  sudden  they  were  reinforced  by  numerous  bodies, 
and  several  guns  began  playing  on  us  with  canister.  Our  poor 
fellows  dropped  very  fast,  and  Colonel  Vigoureux,  Rumley,  and 
Pratt  were  carried  off  badly  wounded  in  about  two  minutes.  I 
was  now  commander  of  our  company.  We  stood  under  this 
hurricane  of  small  shot  till  Halkett  sent  to  order  us  in,  and  I 
brought  away  about  a  third  of  the  light  bobs;  the  rest  were 
killed  or  wounded,  and  I  really  wonder  how  one  of  them  es- 
caped. As  our  bugler  was  killed,  I  shouted  and  made  signals 
to  move  by  the  left,  in  order  to  avoid  the  fire  of  our  guns  and  to 
put  as  good  a  face  upon  the  business  as  possible. 

"  When  I  reached  Lloyd's  abandoned  guns,  I  stood  near  them 
for  about  a  minute  to  contemplate  the  scene:  it  was  grand  be- 
yond description.  Hougoumont  and  its  wood  sent  up  a  broad 
flame  through  the  dark  masses  of  smoke  that  overhung  the  field; 
beneath  this  cloud  the  French  were  indistinctly  visible.  Here 
a  waving  mass  of  long  red  feathers  could  be  seen;  there,  gleams 
as  from  a  sheet  of  steel  showed  that  the  cuirassiers  were  mov- 
ing; 400  cannon  were  belching  forth  fire  and  death  on  every 
side;  the  roaring  and  shouting  were  indistinguishably  commixed 
— together  they  gave  an  idea  of  a  laboring  volcano.  Bodies  of 
infantry  and  cavalry  were  pouring  down  on  us,  and  it  was  time 
to  leave  contemplation ;  so  I  moved  towards  our  columns,  which 
were  standing  up  in  square.  Our  regiment  and  73d  formed 
one,  and  33d  and  69th  another;  to  our  right  beyond  them  were 
the  Guards,  and  on  our  left  the  Hanoverians  and  German  Legion 
of  our  division.  As  I  entered  the  rear  face  of  our  square  I  had 
to  step  over  a  body,  and,  looking  down,  recognized  Harry  Beere, 
an  officer  of  our  grenadiers,  who  about  an  hour  before  shook 
hands  with  me,  laughing,  as  I  left  the  columns.  I  was  on  the 
usual  terms  of  military  intimacy  with  poor  Harry — that  is  to 
say,  if  either  of  us  had  died  a  natural  death,  the  other  would 
have  pitied  him  as  a  good  fellow,  and  smiled  at  his  neighbor  as 
he  congratulated  him  on  the  step;  but  seeing  his  herculean 
frame  and  animated  countenance  thus  suddenly  stiff  and  motion- 
less before  me  (I  know  not  whence  the  feeling  could  originate, 
for  I  had  just  seen  my  dearest  friend  drop,  almost  with  indififer- 
ence),  the  tears  started  in  my  eyes  as  I  sighed  out,  *  Poor  Harry! ' 
The  tear  was  not  dry  on  my  cheek  when  poor  Harry  was  no 
longer  thought  of.  In  a  few  minutes  after,  the  enemy's  cavalry 
galloped  up  and  crowned  the  crest  of  our  position.    Our  guns 


BATTLE  OF   WATERLOO  381 

were  abandoned,  and  they  formed  between  the  two  brigades, 
about  a  hundred  paces  in  our  front.  Their  first  charge  was 
magnificent.  As  soon  as  they  quickened  their  trot  into  a  gallop, 
the  cuirassiers  bent  their  heads  so  that  the  peaks  of  their  helmets 
looked  Hke  vizors,  and  they  seemed  cased  in  armor  from  the 
plume  to  the  saddle.  Not  a  shot  was  fired  till  they  were  within 
thirty  yards,  when  the  word  was  given  and  our  men  fired  away 
at  them.  The  effect  was  magical.  Through  the  smoke  we  could 
see  helmets  falling,  cavaliers  starting  from  their  seats  with  con- 
vulsive springs  as  they  received  our  balls,  horses  plunging  and 
rearing  in  the  agonies  of  fright  and  pain,  and  crowds  of  the 
soldiery  dismounted,  part  of  the  squadron  in  retreat,  but  the 
more  daring  remainder  backing  their  horses  to  force  them  on 
our  bayonets.  Our  fire  soon  disposed  of  these  gentlemen.  The 
main  body  reformed  in  our  front,  and  rapidly  and  gallantly  re- 
peated their  attacks.  In  fact,  from  this  time  (about  four  o'clock) 
till  near  six,  we  had  a  constant  repetition  of  these  brave  but 
unavailing  charges.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  repulsing  them, 
but  our  ammunition  decreased  alarmingly.  At  length  an  artil- 
lery wagon  galloped  up,  emptied  two  or  three  casks  of  cart- 
ridges into  the  square,  and  we  were  all  comfortable. 

"  The  best  cavalry  is  contemptible  to  a  steady  and  well- 
supplied  infantry  regiment;  even  our  men  saw  this,  and  began 
to  pity  the  useless  perseverance  of  their  assailants,  and,  as  they 
advanced,  would  growl  out,  '  Here  come  these  fools  again! ' 
One  of  their  superior  ofificers  tried  a  ruse  de  guerre,  by  advancing 
and  dropping  his  sword,  as  though  he  surrendered;  some  of  us 
were  deceived  by  him,  but  Halkett  ordered  the  men  to  fire,  and 
he  coolly  retired,  saluting  us.  Their  devotion  was  invincible. 
One  officer  whom  we  had  taken  prisoner  was  asked  what  force 
Napoleon  might  have  in  the  field,  and  replied  with  a  smile  of 
mingled  derision  and  threatening,  '  Votis  verres  bicntot  sa  force, 
messieurs!'  A  private  cuirassier  was  wounded  and  dragged  into 
the  square;  his  only  cry  was,  *  Txicz  done,  tues,  tues  moi,  soldats! ' 
and  as  one  of  our  men  dropped  dead  close  to  him,  he  seized  his 
bayonet  and  forced  it  into  his  own  neck ;  but  this  not  despatch- 
ing him,  he  raised  up  his  cuirass  and,  plunging  the  bayonet  into 
his  stomach,  kept  working  it  about  till  he  ceased  to  breathe. 

"  Though  we  constantly  thrashed  our  steel-clad  opponents, 
we  found  more  troublesome  customers  in  the  round  shot  and 
grape,  which  all  this  time  played  on  us  with  terrible  effect  and 


382  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

fully  avenged  the  cuirassiers.  Often  as  the  volleys  created  open- 
ings in  our  square  would  the  cavalry  dash  on,  but  they  were 
uniformly  unsuccessful.  A  regiment  on  our  right  seemed  sadly 
disconcerted,  and  at  one  moment  was  in  considerable  confusion. 
Halkett  rode  out  to  them,  and,  seizing  their  color,  waved  it  over 
his  head  and  restored  them  to  something  like  order,  though  not 
before  his  horse  was  shot  under  him.  At  the  height  of  their 
unsteadiness  we  got  the  order  to  '  right  face '  to  move  to  their 
assistance ;  some  of  the  men  mistook  it  for  *  right  about  face,' 
and  faced  accordingly,  when  old  Major  M'Laine,  73d,  called 
out,  '  No,  my  boys,  it's  "  right  face  "  ;  you'll  never  hear  the 
right  about  as  long  as  a  French  bayonet  is  in  front  of  you ! ' 
In  a  few  moments  he  was  mortally  wounded.  A  regiment  of 
light  dragoons,  by  their  facings  either  the  i6th  or  23d,  came  up 
to  our  left  and  charged  the  cuirassiers.  We  cheered  each  other  as 
they  passed  us;  they  did  all  they  could,  but  were  obliged  to  re- 
tire after  a  few  minutes  at  the  sabre.  A  body  of  Belgian  cavalry 
advanced  for  the  same  purpose,  but  on  passing  our  square  they 
stopped  short.  Our  noble  Halkett  rode  out  to  them  and  offered 
to  charge  at  their  head;  it  was  of  no  use;  the  Prince  of  Orange 
came  up  and  exhorted  them  to  do  their  duty,  but  in  vain.  They 
hesitated  till  a  few  shots  whizzed  through  them,  when  they 
turned  about  and  galloped  like  fury,  or,  rather,  like  fear.  As 
they  passed  the  right  face  of  our  square  the  men,  irritated  by 
their  rascally  conduct,  unanimously  took  up  their  pieces  and 
fired  a  volley  into  them,  and  '  many  a  good  fellow  was  destroyed 
so  cowardly.' 

"  The  enemy's  cavalry  were  by  this  time  nearly  disposed  of, 
and  as  they  had  discovered  the  inutility  of  their  charges,  they 
commenced  annoying  us  by  a  spirited  and  well-directed  carbine 
fire.  While  we  were  employed  in  this  manner  it  was  impossible 
to  see  farther  than  the  columns  on  our  right  and  left,  but  I  im- 
agine most  of  the  army  were  similarly  situated :  all  the  British 
and  Germans  were  doing  their  duty.  About  six  o'clock  I  per- 
ceived some  artillery  trotting  up  our  hill,  which  I  knew  by  their 
caps  to  belong  to  the  Imperial  Guard.  I  had  hardly  mentioned 
this  to  a  brother  officer  when  two  guns  unlimbered  within  sev- 
enty paces  of  us,  and,  by  their  first  discharge  of  grape,  blew 
seven  men  into  the  centre  of  the  square.  They  immediately  re- 
loaded, and  kept  up  a  constant  and  destructive  fire.  It  was  noble 
to  see  our  fellows  fill  up  the  gaps  after  every  discharge.  I  was 
much  distressed  at  this  moment;    having  ordered  up  three  of 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  383 

TTiy  light  bobs,  they  had  hardly  taken  their  station  when  two  of 
them  fell,  horribly  lacerated.  One  of  them  looked  up  in  my 
face  and  uttered  a  sort  of  reproachful  groan,  and  I  involuntarily 
exclaimed, '  I  couldn't  help  it.'  We  would  willingly  have  charged 
these  guns,  but,  had  we  deployed,  the  cavalry  that  flanked  them 
would  have  made  an  example  of  us. 

"  The  vivida  vis  anmii — the  glow  which  fires  one  upon  enter- 
ing into  action — had  ceased;  it  was  now  to  be  seen  which  side 
had  most  bottom,  and  would  stand  killing  longest.  The  duke 
visited  us  frequently  at  this  momentous  period;  he  was  coolness 
personified.  As  he  crossed  the  rear  face  of  our  square  a  shell 
fell  amongst  our  grenadiers,  and  he  checked  his  horse  to  see 
its  effect.  Some  men  were  blown  to  pieces  by  the  explosion, 
and  he  merely  stirred  the  rein  of  his  charger,  apparently  as  little 
concerned  at  their  fate  as  at  his  own  danger.  No  leader  ever 
possessed  so  fully  the  confidence  of  his  soldiery:  wherever  he 
appeared,  a  murmur  of  *  Silence!  Stand  to  your  front!  Here's 
the  duke!'  was  heard  through  the  column,  and  then  all  was 
steady  as  on  a  parade.  His  aides-de-camp,  Colonels  Canning 
and  Gordon,  fell  near  our  square,  and  the  former  died  within  it. 
As  he  came  near  us  late  in  the  evening,  Halkett  rode  out  to  him 
and  represented  our  weak  state,  begging  his  Grace  to  afford 
us  a  little  support.  *  It's  impossible,  Halkett,'  said  he.  And 
our  general  replied,  *  If  so,  sir,  you  may  depend  on  the  brigade 
to  a  man. '  " 

All  accounts  of  the  battle  showed  that  the  duke  was  ever 
present  at  each  spot  where  danger  seemed  the  most  pressing, 
inspiriting  his  men  by  a  few  homely  and  good-humored  words 
and  restraining  their  impatience  to  be  led  forward  to  attack  in 
their  turn.  "  Hard  pounding  this,  gentlemen:  we  will  try  who 
can  pound  the  longest,"  was  his  remark  to  a  battalion  on  which 
the  storm  from  the  French  guns  was  pouring  with  peculiar  fury. 
Riding  up  to  one  of  the  squares,  which  had  been  dreadfully 
weakened  and  against  which  a  fresh  attack  of  French  cavalry 
was  coming,  he  called  to  them:  "Stand  firm,  m.y  lads;  what 
will  they  say  of  this  in  England?  "  As  he  rode  along  another 
part  of  the  line,  where  the  men  had  for  some  time  been  falling 
fast  beneath  the  enemy's  cannonade  without  having  any  close 
fighting,  a  murmur  reached  his  ear  of  natural  eagerness  to  ad- 
vance and  do  something  more  than  stand  still  to  be  shot  at.  The 
duke  called  to  them :  "  Wait  a  little  longer,  my  lads,  and  you 
shall  have  your  wish."    The  men  were  instantly  satisfied  and 


384  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

steady.  It  was,  indeed,  indispensable  for  the  duke  to  bide  his 
time.  The  premature  movement  of  a  single  corps  down  from 
the  British  line  of  heights  would  have  endangered  the  whole 
position,  and  have  probably  made  Waterloo  a  second  Hastings. 

But  the  duke  inspired  all  under  him  with  his  own  spirit  of 
patient  firmness.  When  other  generals  besides  Halkett  sent  to 
him  begging  for  reinforcements,  or  for  leave  to  withdraw  corps 
which  were  reduced  to  skeletons,  the  answer  was  the  same:  "  It 
is  impossible;  you  must  hold  your  ground  to  the  last  man,  and 
all  will  be  well."  He  gave  a  similar  reply  to  some  of  his  stafif 
who  asked  instructions  from  him,  so  that,  in  the  event  of  his 
falling,  his  successor  might  follow  out  his  plan.  He  answered, 
"  My  plan  is  simply  to  stand  my  ground  here  to  the  last  man." 
His  personal  danger  was  indeed  imminent  throughout  the  day; 
and  though  he  escaped  without  injury  to  himself  or  horse,  one 
only  of  his  numerous  staff  was  equally  fortunate.* 

Napoleon  had  stationed  himself  during  the  battle  on  a  little 
hillock  near  La  Belle  Alliance,  in  the  centre  of  the  French  posi- 
tion. Here  he  was  seated,  with  a  large  table  from  the  neighbor- 
ing farmhouse  before  him,  on  which  maps  and  plans  were  spread; 
and  thence  with  his  telescope  he  surveyed  the  various  points  of 
the  field.  Soult  watched  his  orders  close  at  his  left  hand,  and 
his  stafif  was  grouped  on  horseback  a  few  paces  in  the  rear.f 

*  "  As  far  as  the  French  accounts  would  lead  us  to  infer,  it  appears 
that  the  losses  among  Napoleon's  staff  were  comparatively  trifling.  On 
this  subject,  perhaps,  the  marked  contrast  afforded  by  the  following 
anecdotes,  which  have  been  related  to  me  on  excellent  authority,  may 
tend  to  throw  some  light.  At  one  period  of  the  battle,  when  the  duke 
was  surrounded  by  several  of  his  staff,  it  was  very  evident  that  the  group 
had  become  the  object  of  the  fire  of  a  French  battery.  The  shot  fell  fast 
about  them,  generally  striking  and  turning  up  the  ground  on  which  they 
stood.  The  horses  became  restive,  and  '  Copenhagen  '  himself  so  fidgety 
that  the  duke,  getting  impatient,  and  having  reasons  for  remaining  on 
the  spot,  said  to  those  about  him,  '  Gentlemen,  we  are  rather  too  close 
together — better  to  divide  a  little.'  Subsequently,  at  another  point  of 
the  line,  an  oflScer  of  artillery  came  up  to  the  duke,  and  stated  that  he 
had  a  distinct  view  of  Napoleon,  attended  by  his  staff;  that  he  had  the 
guns  of  his  battery  well  pointed  in  that  direction,  and  was  prepared  to 
fire.  His  Grace  instantly  and  emphatically  exclaimed  '  No  !  no  !  I'll  not 
allow  it.  It  is  not  the  business  of  commanders  to  be  firing  upon  each 
other.'  " — SiBORNE.  How  different  is  this  from  Napoleon's  conduct  at 
the  battle  of  Dresden,  when  he  personally  directed  the  fire  of  the  battery, 
which,  as  he  thought,  killed  the  Emperor  Alexander,  and  actually  killed 
Moreau. 

t  "  Ouvrard,  who  attended  Napoleon  as  chief  commissary  of  the 
French  army  on  that  occasion,  told  me  that  Napoleon  was  suffering 
from  a  complaint  which  made  it  very  painful  for  him  to  ride." — Lord 
Ellesmere. 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  385 

Here  lie  remained  till  near  the  close  of  the  day,  preserving  the 
appearance  at  least  of  calmness,  except  some  e>;pressions  of  irri- 
tation which  escaped  him  when  Ney's  attack  on  the  British  left 
centre  was  defeated.  But  now  that  the  crisis  of  the  battle  was 
evidently  approaching,  he  mounted  a  white  Persian  charger, 
which  he  rode  in  action  because  the  troops  easily  recognized 
him  by  the  horse's  color.  He  had  still  the  means  of  effecting  a 
retreat.  His  Old  Guard  had  yet  taken  no  part  in  the  action. 
Under  cover  of  it  he  might  have  withdrawn  his  shattered  forces 
and  retired  upon  the  French  frontier.  But  this  would  only  have 
given  the  English  and  Prussians  the  opportunity  of  completing 
their  junction;  and  he  knew  that  other  armies  were  fast  com- 
ing up  to  aid  them  in  a  march  upon  Paris,  if  he  should  succeed 
in  avoiding  an  encounter  with  them  and  retreating  upon  the 
capital.  A  victory  at  Waterloo  was  his  only  alternative  from 
utter  ruin,  and  he  determined  to  employ  his  Guard  in  one  bold 
stroke  more  to  make  that  victory  his  own. 

Between  seven  and  eight  o'clock  the  infantry  of  the  Old 
Guard  was  formed  into  two  columns,  on  the  declivity  near  La 
Belle  Alliance.  Ney  was  placed  at  their  head.  Napoleon  him- 
self rode  forward  to  a  spot  by  which  his  veterans  were  to  pass ; 
and  as  they  approached  he  raised  his  arm,  and  pointed  to  the 
position  of  the  allies,  as  if  to  tell  them  that  their  path  lay  there. 
They  answered  with  loud  cries  of  "  Vive  VEnipcrcur! "  and 
descended  the  hill  from  their  own  side  into  that  "  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,"  while  their  batteries  thundered  with  re- 
doubled vigor  over  their  heads  upon  the  British  line.  The  line 
of  march  of  the  columns  of  the  Guard  was  directed  between 
Hougoumont  and  La  Haye  Sainte,  against  the  British  right 
centre ;  and  at  the  same  time,  Donzelot  and  the  French,  who 
had  possession  of  La  Haye  Sainte,  commenced  a  fierce  attack 
upon  the  British  centre,  a  little  more  to  its  left.  This  part  of 
the  battle  has  drawn  less  attention  than  the  celebrated  attack 
of  the  Old  Guard ;  but  it  formed  the  most  perilous  crisis  for 
the  allied  army ;  and  if  the  Young  Guard  had  been  there  to  sup- 
port Donzelot,  instead  of  being  engaged  with  the  Prussians  at 
Planchenoit,  the  consequences  to  the  allies  in  that  part  of  the 
field  must  have  been  most  serious.  The  French  tirailleurs,  who 
were  posted  in  clouds  in  La  Haye  Sainte,  and  the  sheltered 
spots  near  it,  picked  ofT  the  artillery-men  of  the  English  bat- 
teries near  them ;  and,  taking  advantage  of  the  crippled  state 
25 


386  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

of  the  English  guns,  the  French  brought  some  field-pieces 
up  to  La  Haye  Sainte,  and  commenced  firing  grape  from 
them  on  the  infantry  of  the  allies,  at  a  distance  of  not  more  than 
a  hundred  paces.  The  allied  infantry  here  consisted  of  some 
German  brigades,  who  were  formed  in  squares,  as  it  was  be- 
lieved that  Donzelot  had  cavalry  ready  behind  La  Haye  Sainte 
to  charge  them  with,  if  they  left  that  order  of  formation.  In 
this  state  the  Germans  remained  for  some  time  with  heroic 
fortitude,  though  the  grape-shot  was  tearing  gaps  in  their 
ranks,  and  the  side  of  one  square  was  literally  blown  away  by 
one  tremendous  volley  which  the  French  gunners  poured  into 
it.  The  Prince  of  Orange  in  vain  endeavored  to  lead  some 
Nassau  troops  to  the  aid  of  the  brave  Germans.  The  Nas- 
sauers  would  not  or  could  not  face  the  French ;  and  some  bat- 
talions of  Brunswickers,  whom  the  Duke  of  Wellington  had 
ordered  up  as  a  re-enforcement,  at  first  fell  back  until  the  duke 
in  person  rallied  them  and  led  them  on.  Having  thus  barred 
the  farther  advance  of  Donzelot,  the  duke  then  galloped  off  to 
the  right  to  head  his  men  who  were  exposed  to  the  attack  of 
the  Imperial  Guard.  He  had  saved  one  part  of  his  centre  from 
being  routed,  but  the  French  had  gained  ground  and  kept  it, 
and  the  pressure  on  the  allied  line  in  front  of  La  Haye  Sainte 
was  fearfully  severe,  until  it  was  relieved  by  the  decisive  suc- 
cess which  the  British  in  the  right  centre  achieved  over  the  col- 
umns of  the  Guard. 

The  British  troops  on  the  crest  of  that  part  of  the  position, 
which  the  first  column  of  Napoleon's  Guards  assailed,  were 
Maitland's  brigade  of  British  Guards,  having  Adams's  brigade 
on  their  right.  Maitland's  men  were  lying  down,  in  order  to 
avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  the  destructive  effect  of  the  French 
artillery,  which  kept  up  an  unremitting  fire  from  the  opposite 
heights,  until  the  first  column  of  the  Imperial  Guard  had  ad- 
vanced so  far  up  the  slope  towards  the  British  position  that  any 
further  firing  of  the  French  artillery-men  would  have  endan- 
gered their  own  comrades.  Meanwhile,  the  British  guns  were 
not  idle  ;  but  shot  and  shell  ploughed  fast  through  the  ranks  of 
the  stately  array  of  veterans  that  still  moved  imposingly  on. 
Several  of  the  French  superior  officers  were  at  its  head.  Ney's 
horse  was  shot  under  him,  but  he  still  led  the  way  on  foot, 
sword  in  hand.  The  front  of  the  massy  column  now  was  on  the 
ridge  of  the  hill.    To  their  surprise,  they  saw  no  troops  before 


BATTLE    OF   WATERLOO  387 

them.  All  they  could  discern  through  the  smoke  was  a  small 
band  of  mounted  officers.  One  of  them  was  the  duke  himself. 
The  French  advanced  to  about  fifty  yards  from  where  the  Brit- 
ish Guards  were  lying  down,  when  the  voice  of  one  of  the  group 
of  British  officers  was  heard  calling,  as  if  to  the  ground  before 
him,  "  Up,  Guards,  and  at  them !  "  It  was  the  duke  who  gave 
the  order ;  and  at  the  words,  as  if  by  magic,  up  started  before 
them  a  line  of  the  British  Guards  four  deep,  and  in  the  most 
compact  and  perfect  order.  They  poured  an  instantaneous  vol- 
ley upon  the  head  of  the  French  column,  by  which  no  less  than 
three  hundred  of  those  chosen  veterans  are  said  to  have  fallen. 
The  French  officers  rushed  forward,  and,  conspicuous  in  front 
of  their  men,  attempted  to  deploy  them  into  a  more  extended 
line,  so  as  to  enable  them  to  reply  with  effect  to  the  British 
fire.  But  Maitland's  brigade  kept  showering  in  volley  after  vol- 
ley with  deadly  rapidity.  The  decimated  column  grew  dis- 
ordered in  its  vain  efforts  to  expand  itself  into  a  more  efficient 
formation.  The  right  word  was  given  at  the  right  moment  to 
the  British  for  the  bayonet-charge,  and  the  brigade  sprung  for- 
ward with  a  loud  cheer  against  their  dismayed  antagonists.  In 
an  instant  the  compact  mass  of  the  French  spread  out  into  a 
rabble,  and  they  fled  back  down  the  hill  pursued  by  Maitland's 
men,  who,  however,  returned  to  their  position  in  time  to  take 
part  in  the  repulse  of  the  second  column  of  the  Imperial  Guard. 
This  column  also  advanced  with  great  spirit  and  firmness 
under  the  cannonade  which  was  opened  on  it,  and,  passing  by 
the  eastern  wall  of  Hougoumont,  diverged  slightly  to  the  right 
as  it  moved  up  the  slope  towards  the  British  position,  so  as  to 
approach  the  same  spot  where  the  first  column  had  surmounted 
the  height  and  been  defeated.  This  enabled  the  British  regi- 
ments of  Adams's  brigade  to  form  a  line  parallel  to  the  left  flank 
of  the  French  column,  so  that  while  the  front  of  this  column 
of  French  Guards  had  to  encounter  the  cannonade  of  the  Brit- 
ish batteries,  and  the  musketry  of  IMaitland's  Guards,  its  left 
flank  was  assailed  with  a  destructive  fire  by  a  four-deep  body 
of  British  infantry,  extending  all  along  it.  In  such  a  position, 
all  the  bravery  and  skill  of  the  French  veterans  were  vain.  The 
second  column,  like  its  predecessor,  broke  and  fled,  taking  at 
first  a  lateral  direction  along  the  front  of  the  British  line 
towards  the  rear  of  La  Haye  Sainte,  and  so  becoming  blended 
with  the  divisions  of  French  infantry,  which,  under  Donzelot, 


388  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

had  been  pressing  the  alHes  so  severely  in  that  quarter.  The 
sight  of  the  Old  Guard  broken  and  in  flight  checked  the  ardor 
which  Donzelot's  troops  had  hitherto  displayed.  They,  too, 
began  to  waver.  Adams's  victorious  brigade  was  pressing  after 
the  flying  Guard,  and  now  cleared  away  the  assailants  of  the 
allied  centre.  But  the  battle  was  not  yet  won.  Napoleon  had 
still  some  battalions  in  reserve  near  La  Belle  Alliance.  He  was 
rapidly  rallying  the  remains  of  the  first  column  of  his  Guards, 
and  he  had  collected  into  one  body  the  remnants  of  the  various 
corps  of  cavalry,  which  had  suflfered  so  severely  in  the  earlier 
part  of  the  day.  The  duke  instantly  formed  the  bold  resolution 
of  now  himself  becoming  the  assailant,  and  leading  his  success- 
ful though  enfeebled  army  forward,  while  the  disheartening 
eflfect  of  the  repulse  of  the  Imperial  Guard  on  the  rest  of  the 
French  army  was  still  strong,  and  before  Napoleon  and  Ney 
could  rally  the  beaten  veterans  themselves  for  another  and  a 
fiercer  charge.  As  the  close  approach  of  the  Prussians  now 
completely  protected  the  duke's  left,  he  had  drawn  some  re- 
serves of  horse  from  that  quarter,  and  he  had  a  brigade  of  Hus- 
sars under  Vivian  fresh  and  ready  at  hand.  Without  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation  he  launched  these  against  the  cavalry  near 
La  Belle  Alliance.  The  charge  was  as  successful  as  it  was  dar- 
ing; and  as  there  was  now  no  hostile  cavalry  to  check  the 
British  infantry  in  a  forward  movement,  the  duke  gave  the 
long-wished-for  command  for  a  general  advance  of  the  army 
along  the  whole  line  upon  the  foe.  It  was  now  past  eight 
o'clock,  and  for  nearly  nine  deadly  hours  had  the  British  and 
German  regiments  stood  unflinching  under  the  fire  of  artillery, 
the  charge  of  cavalry,  and  every  variety  of  assault  that  the  com- 
pact columns  or  the  scattered  tirailleurs  of  the  enemy's  infantry 
could  inflict.  As  they  joyously  sprung  forward  against  the 
discomfited  masses  of  the  French,  the  setting  sun  broke 
through  the  clouds  which  had  obscured  the  sky  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  day,  and  glittered  on  the  bayonets  of 
the  allies  while  they  poured  down  into  the  valley  and  towards 
the  heights  that  were  held  by  the  foe.  The  duke  himself  was 
among  the  foremost  in  the  advance,  and  personally  directed 
the  movements  against  each  body  of  the  French  that  es- 
sayed resistance.  He  rode  in  front  of  Adams's  brigade,  cheer- 
ing it  forward,  and  even  galloped  among  the  most  advanced 
of  the  British  skirmishers,  speaking  joyously  to  the  men  and 
receiv'ng  their  heartv  shouts  of  congratulation.    The  bullets  of 


BATTLE    OF   WATERLOO  389 

both  friends  and  foes  were  whistling  fast  around  him;  and  one 
of  the  few  survivors  of  his  staff  remonstrated  with  him  for  thus 
exposing  a  hfe  of  such  vahie.  "  Never  mind,"  was  the  duke's 
answer — "never  mind,  let  them  fire  away;  the  battle's  won, 
and  my  life  is  of  no  consequence  now."  And,  indeed,  almost 
the  whole  of  the  French  host  were  now  in  irreparable  confusion. 
The  Prussian  army  was  coming  more  and  more  rapidly  forward 
on  their  right;  and  the  Young  Guard,  which  had  held  Planche- 
noit  so  bravely,  was  at  last  compelled  to  give  way.  Some  regi- 
ments of  the  Old  Guard  in  vain  endeavored  to  form  in  squares 
and  stem  the  current.  They  were  swept  away  and  wrecked 
among  the  waves  of  the  flyers.  Napoleon  had  placed  himself 
in  one  of  these  squares:  Marshal  Soult,  Generals  Bertrand, 
Drouot,  Corbineau,  De  Flahaut,  and  Gourgaud  were  with  him. 
The  emperor  spoke  of  dying  on  the  field,  but  Soult  seized  his 
bridle  and  turned  his  charger  round,  exclaiming,  "  Sire,  are  not 
the  enemy  already  lucky  enough?  "  With  the  greatest  difhculty, 
and  only  by  the  utmost  exertion  of  the  devoted  officers  round 
him.  Napoleon  cleared  the  throng  of  fugitives  and  escaped  from 
the  scene  of  the  battle  and  the  war,  which  he  and  France  had 
lost  past  all  recovery.  Meanwhile  the  Duke  of  Wellington  still 
rode  forward  with  the  van  of  his  victorious  troops,  until  he 
reined  up  on  the  elevated  ground  near  Rossomme.  The  day- 
light was  now  entirely  gone;  but  the  young  moon  had  risen, 
and  the  Hght  which  it  cast,  aided  by  the  glare  from  the  burning 
houses  and  other  buildings  in  the  line  of  the  flying  French  and 
pursuing  Prussians,  enabled  the  duke  to  assure  himself  that  his 
victory  was  complete.  He  then  rode  back  along  the  Charleroi 
road  towards  Waterloo;  and  near  La  Belle  Alliance  he  met 
Marshal  Bliicher.  Warm  were  the  congratulations  that  were 
exchanged  between  the  allied  chiefs.  It  was  arranged  that  the 
Prussians  should  follow  up  the  pursuit  and  give  the  French  no 
chance  of  rallying.  Accordingly  the  British  army,  exhausted 
by  its  toils  and  sufferings  during  that  dreadful  day,  did  not  ad- 
vance beyond  the  heights  which  the  enemy  had  occupied.  But 
the  Prussians  drove  the  fugitives  before  them  in  merciless  chase 
throughout  the  night.  Cannon,  baggage,  and  all  the  materiel 
of  the  army  were  abandoned  by  the  French;  and  many  thou- 
sands of  the  infantry  threw  away  their  arms  to  facilitate  their 
escape.  The  ground  was  strewn  for  miles  with  the  wrecks  of 
their  host.  There  was  no  rear-guard;  nor  was  even  the  sem- 
blance of  order  attempted.    An  attempt  at  resistance  v/as  made 


39° 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


at  the  bridge  and  village  of  Genappe,  the  first  narrow  pass 
through  which  the  bulk  of  the  French  retired.  The  situation 
was  favorable ;  and  a  few  resolute  battalions,  if  ably  commanded, 
might  have  held  their  pursuers  at  bay  there  for  some  consider- 
able time.  But  despair  and  panic  were  now  universal  in  the 
beaten  army.  At  the  first  sound  of  the  Prussian  drums  and 
bugles,  Genappe  was  abandoned  and  nothing  thought  of  but 
headlong  flight.  The  Prussians,  under  General  Gneisenau,  still 
followed  and  still  slew;  nor  even  when  the  Prussian  infantry 
stopped  in  sheer  exhaustion,  was  the  pursuit  given  up.  Gneise- 
nau still  pushed  on  with  the  cavalry ;  and  by  an  ingenious  strat- 
agem made  the  French  believe  that  his  infantry  were  still  close 
on  them,  and  scared  them  from  every  spot  where  they  attempted 
to  pause  and  rest.  He  mounted  one  of  his  drummers  on  a  horse 
which  had  been  taken  from  the  captured  carriage  of  Napoleon, 
and  made  him  ride  along  with  the  pursuing  cavalry  and  beat  the 
drum  whenever  they  came  on  any  large  number  of  the  French. 
The  French  thus  fled,  and  the  Prussians  pursued,  through 
Quatre  Bras  and  even  over  the  heights  of  Frasne;  and  when  at 
length  Gneisenau  drew  bridle,  and  halted  a  little  beyond  Frasne 
with  the  scanty  remnant  of  keen  hunters  who  had  kept  up  the 
chase  with  him  to  the  last,  the  French  were  scattered  through 
Gosselies,  Marchiennes,  and  Charleroi,  and  were  striving  to  re- 
gain the  left  bank  of  the  river  Sambre,  which  they  had  crossed 
in  such  pomp  and  pride  not  a  hundred  hours  before. 

Part  of  the  French  left  wing  endeavored  to  escape  from  the 
field  without  blending  with  the  main  body  of  the  fugitives  who 
thronged  the  Genappe  causeway.  A  French  officer  who  was 
among  those  who  thus  retreated  across  the  country  westward  of 
the  highroad  has  vividly  described  what  he  witnessed  and  what 
he  suffered.  Colonel  Lemonnier-Delafosse  served  in  the  cam- 
paign of  1815  in  General  Foy's  stafif,  and  was  consequently  in 
that  part  of  the  French  army  at  Waterloo  which  acted  against 
Hougoumont  and  the  British  right  wing.  When  the  column  of 
the  Imperial  Guard  made  their  great  charge  at  the  end  of  the 
day,  the  troops  of  Foy's  division  advanced  in  support  of  them, 
and  Colonel  Lemonnier-Delafosse  describes  the  confident  hopes 
of  victory  and  promotion  with  which  he  marched  to  that  attack, 
and  the  fearful  carnage  and  confusion  of  the  assailants,  amid 
which  he  was  helplessly  hurried  back  by  his  flying  comrades. 
He  then  narrates  the  closing  scene: — 

"  Near  one  of  the  hedges  of  Hougoumont  farm,  without  even 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  391 

a  drummer  to  beat  the  rappcl,  we  succeeded  in  rallying  under 
the  enemy's  fire  300  men:  they  were  nearly  all  that  remained 
of  our  splendid  division.  Thither  came  together  a  band  of  gen- 
erals. There  was  Reille,  whose  horse  had  been  shot  under  him ; 
there  were  d'Erlon,  Bachelu,  Foy,  Jamin,  and  others.  All  were 
gloomy  and  sorrowful,  like  vanquished  men.  Their  words 
were, — '  Here  is  all  that  is  left  of  my  corps,  of  my  division,  of 
my  brigade:  I,  myself.'  We  had  seen  the  fall  of  Duhesme,  of 
Pelet-de-Morvan,  of  Michel — generals  who  had  found  a  glorious 
death.  My  general,  Foy,  had  his  shoulder  pierced  through  by  a 
musket-ball;  and  out  of  his  whole  staff  two  officers  only  were 
left  to  him,  Cahour  Duhay  and  I.  Fate  had  spared  me  in  the 
midst  of  so  many  dangers,  though  the  first  charger  I  rode  had 
been  shot  and  had  fallen  on  me. 

"  The  enemy's  horse  were  coming  down  on  us,  and  our  little 
group  was  obliged  to  retreat.  What  had  happened  to  our  divi- 
sion of  the  left  wing  had  taken  place  all  along  the  line.  The 
movement  of  the  hostile  cavalry,  which  inundated  the  whole 
plain,  had  demoraHzed  our  soldiers,  who,  seeing  all  regular  re- 
treat of  the  army  cut  ofT,  strove  each  man  to  effect  one  for  him- 
self. At  each  instant  the  road  became  more  encumbered.  In- 
fantry, cavalry,  and  artillery  were  pressing  along  pell-mell: 
jammed  together  like  a  solid  mass.  Figure  to  yourself  40,000 
men  struggling  and  thrusting  themselves  along  a  single  cause- 
way. We  could  not  take  that  way  without  destruction ;  so  the 
generals  who  had  collected  together  near  the  Hougoumont 
hedge  dispersed  across  the  fields.  General  Foy  alone  re- 
mained with  the  300  men  whom  he  had  gleaned  from  the  field 
of  battle,  and  marched  at  their  head.  Our  anxiety  was  to 
withdraw  from  the  scene  of  action  without  being  confounded 
with  the  fugitives.  Our  general  wished  to  retreat  like  a  true 
soldier.  Seeing  three  lights  in  the  southern  horizon,  like 
beacons,  General  Foy  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  the  position 
of  each.  I  answered,  *  The  first  to  the  left  is  Genappe ;  the 
second  is  at  Bois  de  Bossu,  near  the  farm  of  Quatre  Bras ;  the 
third  is  at  Gosselies.'  '  Let  us  march  on  the  second  one,  then,' 
replied  Foy,  '  and  let  no  obstacle  stop  us— take  the  head  of  the 
column,  and  do  not  lose  sight  of  the  guiding  light.*  Such  was 
his  order,  and  I  strove  to  obey.  ^ 

"  After  all  the  agitation  and  the  incessant  din  of  a  long  day 
of  battle,  how  imposing  was  the  stillness  of  that  night!    We 


393  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

proceeded  on  our  sad  and  lonely  march.  We  were  a  prey  to 
the  most  cruel  reflections;  we  were  humiliated,  we  were  hope- 
less; but  not  a  word  of  complaint  was  heard.  We  walked  si- 
lently as  a  troop  of  mourners  and  it  might  have  been  said  that 
we  were  attending  the  funeral  of  our  country's  glory.  Suddenly 
the  stillness  was  broken  by  a  challenge — '  Qui  vive? ' '  France ! ' 
'  Kellermann ! ' '  Foy ! '  '  Is  it  you,  general  ?  come  nearer  to  us.' 
At  that  moment  we  were  passing  over  a  little  hillock,  at  the  foot 
of  which  wa3  a  hut,  in  which  Kellermann  and  some  of  his  officers 
had  halted.  They  came  out  to  join  us.  Foy  said  to  me, '  Keller- 
mann knows  the  country:  he  has  been  along  here  before  with 
his  cavalry;  we  had  better  follow  him.'  But  we  found  that  the 
direction  which  Kellermann  chose  was  towards  the  first  light, 
towards  Genappe.  That  led  to  the  causeway  which  our  general 
rightly  wished  to  avoid.  I  went  to  the  left  to  reconnoitre,  and 
was  soon  convinced  that  such  was  the  case.  It  was  then  that  I 
was  able  to  form  a  full  idea  of  the  disorder  of  a  routed  army. 
What  a  hideous  spectacle  1  The  mountain  torrent,  that  uproots 
and  whirls  along  with  it  every  momentary  obstacle,  is  a  feeble 
image  of  that  heap  of  men,  of  horses,  of  equipages,  rushing  one 
upon  another;  gathering  before  the  least  obstacle  which  dams 
up  their  way  for  a  few  seconds,  only  to  form  a  mass  which  over- 
throws everything  in  the  path  which  it  forces  for  itself.  Woe 
to  him  whose  footing  failed  him  in  that  deluge !  He  was 
crushed,  trampled  to  death !  I  returned  and  told  my  general 
what  I  had  seen,  and  he  instantly  abandoned  Kellermann  and 
resumed  his  original  line  of  march. 

"  Keeping  straight  across  the  country,  over  fields  and  the 
rough  thickets,  we  at  last  arrived  at  the  Bois  de  Bossu,  where 
we  halted.  My  general  said  to  me :  '  Go  to  the  farm  of  Quatre 
Bras  and  announce  that  we  are  here.  The  emperor  or  Soult 
must  be  there.  Ask  for  orders,  and  recollect  that  I  am  waiting 
here  for  you.  The  lives  of  these  men  depend  on  your  exactness.' 
To  reach  the  farm  I  was  obliged  to  cross  the  highroad :  I  was  on 
horseback,  but  nevertheless  was  borne  away  by  the  crowd  tliat 
fled  along  the  road,  and  it  was  long  ere  I  could  extricate  myself 
and  reach  the  farmhouse.  General  Lobau  was  there  with  his 
staff,  resting  in  fancied  security.  They  thought  that  their  troops 
had  halted  there;  but,  though  a  halt  had  been  attempted,  the 
men  had  soon  fled  forward,  like  their  comrades  of  the  rest  of  the 
army.    The  shots  of  the  approaching  Prussians  were  now  heard; 


BATTLE  OF  V/ATERLOO  393 

and  I  believe  that  General  Lobau  was  taken  prisoner  in  that 
farmhouse.  I  left  him  to  rejoin  my  general,  which  I  did  with 
difficulty.  I  found  him  alone.  His  men,  as  they  came  near  the 
current  of  flight,  were  infected  with  the  general  panic  and  fled 
also. 

"  What  was  to  be  done?  Follow  that  crowd  of  runaways? 
General  Foy  would  not  hear  of  it.  There  were  five  of  us  still 
with  him,  all  officers.  He  had  been  wounded  at  about  five  in 
the  afternoon,  and  the  wound  had  not  been  dressed.  He  suf- 
fered severely;  but  his  moral  courage  was  unbroken.  '  Let  us 
keep,'  he  said, '  a  line  parallel  to  the  highroad,  and  work  our  way 
hence  as  we  best  can.'  A  foot  track  was  before  us,  and  we  fol- 
lowed it. 

"  The  moon  shone  out  brightly,  and  revealed  the  full  wretch- 
edness of  the  tableau  which  met  our  eyes.  A  brigadier  and  four 
cavalry  soldiers,  whom  we  met  with,  formed  our  escort.  We 
marched  on;  and,  as  the  noise  grew  more  distant,  I  thought 
that  we  were  losing  the  parallel  of  the  highway.  Finding  that 
we  had  the  moon  more  and  more  on  the  left,  I  felt  sure  of  this, 
and  mentioned  it  to  the  general.  Absorbed  in  thought,  he  made 
me  no  reply.  We  came  in  front  of  a  windmill,  and  endeavored 
to  procure  some  information;  but  we  could  not  gain  an  en- 
trance or  make  any  one  answer,  and  we  continued  our  nocturnal 
march.  At  last  we  entered  a  village,  but  found  every  door 
closed  against  us,  and  were  obliged  to  use  threats  in  order  to 
gain  admission  into  a  single  house.  The  poor  woman  to  whom 
it  belonged,  more  dead  than  alive,  received  us  as  if  we  had  been 
enemies.  Before  asking  where  we  were,  *  Food,  give  us  some 
food! '  was  our  cry.  Bread  and  butter  and  beer  were  brought, 
and  soon  disappeared  before  men  who  had  fasted  for  twenty- 
four  hours.  A  little  revived,  we  asked,  '  Where  are  we?  what  is 
the  name  of  this  village?  ' — '  Vieville.' 

"  On  looking  at  the  map,  I  saw  that  in  coming  to  that  village 
v^e  had  leaned  too  much  to  the  right,  and  that  we  were  in  the 
direction  of  Mons.  In  order  to  reach  the  Sambre  at  the  bridge 
of  Marchiennes,  we  had  four  leagues  to  traverse;  and  there  was 
scarcely  time  to  march  the  distance  before  daybreak.  I  made 
a  villager  act  as  our  guide,  and  bound  him  by  his  arm  to  my 
stirrup.  He  led  us  through  Roux  to  Marchiennes.  The  poor 
fellow  ran  alongside  of  my  horse  the  whole  way.  It  was  cruel 
but  necessary  to  compel  him,  for  we  had  not  an  instant  to  spare. 
At  six  in  the  morning  we  entered  Marchiennes. 


394 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


"  Marshal  Ney  was  there.  Our  general  went  to  see  him,  and 
to  ask  what  orders  he  had  to  give.  Ney  was  asleep;  and,  rather 
than  rob  him  of  the  first  repose  he  had  had  for  four  days,  our 
general  returned  to  us  without  seeing  him.  And,  indeed,  what 
orders  could  Marshal  Ney  have  given?  The  whole  army  was 
crossing  the  Sambre,  each  man  where  and  how  he  chose;  some 
at  Charleroi,  some  at  Marchiennes.  We  were  about  to  do  the 
same  thing.  When  once  beyond  the  Sambre,  we  might  safely 
halt;  and  both  men  and  horses  were  in  extreme  need  of  rest. 
We  passed  through  Thuin;  and  finding  a  little  copse  near  the 
road,  we  gladly  sought  its  shelter.  While  our  horses  grazed,  we 
lay  down  and  slept.  How  sweet  was  that  sleep  after  the  fatigues 
of  the  long  day  of  battle,  and  after  the  night  of  retreat  more 
painful  still !  We  rested  in  the  little  copse  till  noon,  and  sat  there 
watching  the  wrecks  of  our  army  defile  along  the  road  before  us. 
It  was  a  soul-harrowing  sight !  Yet  the  different  arms  of  the  ser- 
vice had  resumed  a  certain  degree  of  order  amid  their  disorder; 
and  our  general,  feeling  his  strength  revive,  resolved  to  follow  a 
strong  column  of  cavalry  which  was  taking  the  direction  of 
Beaumont,  about  four  leagues  off.  We  drew  near  Beaumont, 
when  suddenly  a  regiment  of  horse  was  seen  debouching  from 
a  wood  on  our  left.  The  column  that  we  followed  shouted  out, 
'The  Prussians!  the  Prussians! '  and  galloped  off  in  utter  dis- 
order. The  troops  that  thus  alarmed  them  were  not  a  tenth  part 
of  their  number,  and  were  in  reality  our  own  8th  Hussars,  who 
wore  green  uniforms.  But  the  panic  had  been  brought  even 
thus  far  from  the  battle-field,  and  the  disorganized  column  gal- 
loped into  Beaumont  which  was  already  crowded  with  our  in- 
fantry. We  were  obliged  to  follow  that  debacle.  On  entering 
Beaumont  we  chose  a  house  of  superior  appearance,  and  de- 
manded of  the  mistress  of  it  refreshments  for  the  general. 
'  Alas! '  said  the  lady,  *  this  is  the  tenth  general  who  has  been  to 
this  house  since  this  morning.  I  have  nothing  left.  Search,  if 
you  please,  and  see.'  Though  unable  to  find  food  for  the  gen- 
eral, I  persuaded  him  to  take  his  coat  off  and  let  me  examine 
his  wound.  The  bullet  had  gone  through  the  twists  of  the  left 
epaulette,  and,  penetrating  the  skin,  had  run  round  the  shoul- 
der without  injuring  the  bone.  The  lady  of  the  house  made 
some  lint  for  me;  and  without  any  great  degree  of  surgical 
skill  I  succeeded  in  dressing  the  wound. 

"  Being  still  anxious  to  procure  some  food  for  the  general 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  395 

and  ourselves,  if  it  were  but  a  loaf  of  ammunition  bread,  I  left 
the  house  and  rode  out  into  the  town.  I  saw  pillage  going  on  in 
every  direction:  open  caissons,  stripped  and  half  broken, 
blocked  up  the  streets.  The  pavement  was  covered  with  plun- 
dered and  torn  baggage.  Pillagers  and  runaways,  such  were  all 
the  comrades  I  met  with.  Disgusted  at  them,  I  strove,  sword 
in  hand,  to  stop  one  of  the  plunderers;  but,  more  active  than  I, 
he  gave  me  a  bayonet  stab  in  my  left  arm,  in  which  I  fortunately 
caught  his  thrust,  which  had  been  aimed  full  at  my  body.  He 
disappeared  among  the  crowd,  through  which  I  could  not  force 
my  horse.  My  spirit  of  discipline  had  made  me  forget  that  in 
such  circumstances  the  soldier  is  a  mere  wild  beast.  But  to  be 
wounded  by  a  fellow  countryman  after  having  passed  unharmed 
through  all  the  perils  of  Quatre  Bras  and  Waterloo! — this  did 
seem  hard,  indeed.  I  was  trying  to  return  to  General  Foy,  when 
another  horde  of  flyers  burst  into  Beaumont,  swept  me  into  the 
current  of  their  flight,  and  hurried  me  out  of  the  town  with  them. 
Until  I  received  my  wound  I  had  preserved  my  moral  courage  in 
full  force ;  but  now,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  covered  with  blood, 
and  suffering  severe  pain  from  the  wound,  I  own  that  I  gave  way 
to  the  general  demoralization  and  let  myself  be  inertly  borne 
along  with  the  rushing  mass.  At  last  I  reached  Landrecies, 
though  I  know  not  how  or  when.  But  I  found  there  our  Col- 
onel Hurday,  who  had  been  left  behind  there  in  consequence  of 
an  accidental  injury  from  a  carriage.  He  took  me  with  him  to 
Paris,  where  I  retired  amid  my  family  and  got  cured  of  my 
wound,  knowing  nothing  of  the  rest  of  political  and  military 
events  that  were  taking  place." 

No  returns  ever  were  made  of  the  amount  of  the  French  loss 
in  the  battle  of  Waterloo;  but  it  must  have  been  immense,  and 
may  be  partially  judged  of  by  the  amount  of  killed  and  wounded 
in  the  armies  of  the  conquerors.  On  this  subject  both  the  Prus- 
sian and  British  oflicial  evidence  is  unquestionably  full  and  aU' 
thentic.    The  figures  are  terribly  emphatic. 

Of  the  army  that  fought  under  the  Duke  of  Wellington  nearly 
15,000  men  were  killed  and  wounded  on  this  single  day  of  battle. 
Seven  thousand  Prussians  also  fell  at  Waterloo.  At  such  a  fear- 
ful price  was  the  deliverance  of  Europe  purchased. 

By  none  was  the  severity  of  that  loss  more  keenly  felt  than 
by  our  great  deliverer  himself.  As  may  be  seen  in  Major  Alac- 
ready's  narrative,  the  duke,  while  the  battle  was  raging,  be- 


396  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

trayed  no  sign  of  emotion  at  the  most  ghastly  casualties;  but, 
when  all  was  over,  the  sight  of  the  carnage  with  which  the  field 
was  covered,  and,  still  more,  the  sickening  spectacle  of  the  ag- 
onies of  the  wounded  men  who  lay  moaning  in  their  misery  by 
thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  weighed  heavily  on  the  spirit 
of  the  victor,  as  he  rode  back  across  the  scene  of  strife.  On 
reaching  his  headquarters  in  the  village  of  Waterloo,  the  duke 
inquired  anxiously  after  the  numerous  friends  who  had  been 
round  him  in  the  morning,  and  to  whom  he  was  warmly  at- 
tached. Many,  he  was  told,  were  dead ;  others  were  lying  alive, 
but  mangled  and  sufifering,  in  the  houses  round  him.  It  is  in  our 
hero's  own  words  alone  that  his  feelings  can  be  adequately  told. 
In  a  letter  written  by  him  almost  immediately  after  his  return 
from  the  field,  he  thus  expressed  himself:  "  My  heart  is  broken 
by  the  terrible  loss  I  have  sustained  in  my  old  friends  and  com- 
panions and  my  poor  soldiers.  Believe  me,  nothing  except  a 
battle  lost  can  be  half  so  melancholy  as  a  battle  won.  The  brav- 
ery of  my  troops  has  hitherto  saved  me  from  the  greater  evil; 
but  to  win  such  a  battle  as  this  of  Waterloo,  at  the  expense  of  so 
many  gallant  friends,  could  only  be  termed  a  heavy  misfortune 
but  for  the  result  to  the  republic." 

It  is  not  often  that  a  successful  general  in  modern  warfare  is 
called  on,  like  the  victorious  commander  of  the  ancient  Greek 
armies,  to  award  a  prize  of  superior  valor  to  one  of  his  soldiers. 
Such  was  to  some  extent  the  case  with  respect  to  the  battle  of 
Waterloo.  In  the  August  of  1818,  an  English  clergyman  of- 
fered to  confer  a  small  annuity  on  some  Waterloo  soldier,  to  be 
named  by  the  duke.  The  duke  requested  Sir  John  Byng  to 
choose  a  man  from  the  second  brigade  of  Guards,  which  had 
so  highly  distinguished  itself  in  the  defense  of  Hougoumont. 
There  were  many  gallant  candidates,  but  the  election  fell  on  Ser- 
geant James  Graham,  of  the  light  company  of  the  Coldstreams. 
This  brave  man  had  signalized  himself  throughout  the  day  in 
the  defense  of  that  important  post,  and  especially  in  the  critical 
struggle  that  took  place  at  the  period  when  the  French,  who  had 
gained  the  wood,  the  orchard,  and  detached  garden,  succeeded 
in  bursting  open  a  gate  of  the  courtyard  of  the  chateau  itself, 
and  rushed  in  in  large  masses,  confident  of  carrying  all  before 
them,  A  hand-to-hand  fight,  of  the  most  desperate  character, 
was  kept  up  between  them  and  the  Guards  for  a  few  minutes; 
but  at  last  the  British  bayonets  prevailed.    Nearly  all  the  French- 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO 


397 


men  who  had  forced  their  way  in  were  killed  on  the  spot;  and, 
as  the  few  survivors  ran  back,  five  of  the  Guards,  Colonel  Mac- 
donnell.  Captain  Wyndham,  Ensign  Gooch,  Ensign  Hervey,  and 
Sergeant  Graham,  by  sheer  strength,  closed  the  gate  again,  in 
spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  French  from  without,  and  effectually 
barricaded  it  against  further  assaults.  Over  and  through  the 
loopholed  wall  of  the  courtyard  the  English  garrison  now  kept 
up  a  deadly  fire  of  musketry,  which  was  fiercely  answered  by 
the  French,  who  swarmed  round  the  curtilage  like  ravening 
wolves.  Shells,  too,  from  their  batteries  were  falling  fast  into 
the  besieged  place,  one  of  which  set  part  of  the  mansion  and 
some  of  the  outbuildings  on  fire.  Graham,  who  was  at  this  time 
standing  near  Colonel  Macdonnell  at  the  wall,  and  who  had 
shown  the  most  perfect  steadiness  and  courage,  now  asked 
permission  of  his  commanding  officer  to  retire  for  a  moment. 
Macdonnell  replied,  "  By  all  means,  Graham ;  but  I  wonder 
you  should  ask  leave  now."  Graham  answered,  "  I  would  not, 
sir,  only  my  brother  is  wounded,  and  he  is  in  that  outbuilding 
there,  which  has  just  caught  fire."  Laying  down  his  musket, 
Graham  ran  to  the  blazing  spot,  lifted  up  his  brother,  and  laid 
him  in  a  ditch.  Then  he  was  back  at  his  post,  and  was  plying 
his  musket  against  the  French  again  before  his  absence  was 
noticed,  except  by  his  colonel. 

Many  anecdotes  of  individual  prowess  have  been  preserved; 
but  of  all  the  brave  men  who  were  in  the  British  army  on  that 
eventful  day,  none  deserves  more  honor  for  courage  and  indom- 
itable resolution  than  Sir  Thomas  Picton,  who,  as  has  been 
mentioned,  fell  in  repulsing  the  great  attack  of  the  French  upon 
the  British  left  centre.  It  was  not  until  the  dead  body  was  ex- 
amined after  the  battle  that  the  full  heroism  of  Picton  was  dis- 
cerned. He  had  been  wounded  on  the  i6th,  at  Quatre  Bras, 
by  a  musket-ball,  which  had  broken  two  of  his  ribs  and  caused 
also  severe  internal  injuries;  but  he  had  concealed  the  circum- 
stance, evidently  in  expectation  that  another  and  greater  battle 
would  be  fought  in  a  short  time,  and  desirous  to  avoid  being  so- 
licited to  absent  himself  from  the  field.  His  body  was  blackened 
and  swollen  by  the  wound,  which  must  have  caused  severe  and 
incessant  pain  ;  and  it  was  marvellous  how  his  spirit  had  borne 
him  up,  and  enabled  him  to  take  part  in  the  fatigues  and  duties 
of  the  field.  The  bullet  which,  on  the  i8th,  killed  the  renowned 
leader  of  "  the  fighting  division  "  of  the  Peninsula  entered  the 


398  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

head  near  the  left  temple,  and  passed  through  the  brain;  so  that 
Picton's  death  must  have  been  instantaneous. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  narratives  of  personal  adventure 
at  Waterloo  is  that  of  Colonel  Frederick  Ponsonby,  of  the  12th 
Light  Dragoons,  who  was  severely  wounded  when  Vandeleur's 
brigade,  to  which  he  belonged,  attacked  the  French  lancers,  in 
order  to  bring  of¥  the  Union  Brigade,  which  was  retiring  from 
its  memorable  charge.  The  12th,  like  those  whom  they  rescued, 
advanced  much  farther  against  the  French  position  than  pru- 
dence warranted.  Ponsonby,  with  many  others,  was  speared  by  a 
reserve  of  Polish  lancers,  and  left  for  dead  on  the  field.  It  is 
well  to  refer  to  the  description  of  what  he  suffered  (as  he  after- 
wards gave  it,  when  almost  miraculously  recovered  from  his 
numerous  wounds),  because  his  fate,  or  worse,  was  the  fate  of 
thousands  more;  and  because  the  narrative  of  the  pangs  of  an 
individual,  with  whom  we  can  identify  ourselves,  always  comes 
more  home  to  us  than  a  general  description  of  the  miseries  of 
whole  masses.  His  tale  may  make  us  remember  what  are  the 
horrors  of  war  as  well  as  its  glories.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that 
the  operations  which  he  refers  to  took  place  about  three  o'clock 
in  the  day,  and  that  the  fighting  went  on  for  at  least  five  hours 
more.  After  describing  how  he  and  his  men  charged  through 
the  French  whom  they  first  encountered,  and  went  against 
other  enemies,  he  states : 

"  We  had  no  sooner  passed  them  than  we  were  ourselves  at- 
tacked, before  we  could  form,  by  about  300  Polish  lancers,  who 
had  hastened  to  their  relief,  the  French  artillery  pouring  in 
among  us  a  heavy  fire  of  grape,  though  for  one  of  our  men  they 
killed  three  of  their  own. 

"  In  the  melee  I  was  almost  instantly  disabled  in  both  arms, 
losing  first  my  sword,  and  then  my  reins ;  and  followed  by  a  few 
men,  who  were  presently  cut  down,  no  quarter  being  allowed, 
asked,  or  given,  I  was  carried  along  by  my  horse,  till,  receiving  a 
blow  from  a  sabre,  I  fell  senseless  on  my  face  to  the  ground. 

"  Recovering,  I  raised  myself  a  little  to  look  around,  being  at 
that  time,  I  believe,  in  a  condition  to  get  up  and  run  away;  when 
a  lancer,  passing  by,  cried  out,  *  Tu  n'es  pas  morf,  coqnin! '  and 
struck  his  lance  through  my  back.  My  head  dropped,  the  blood 
gushed  into  my  mouth,  a  difficulty  of  breathing  came  on,  and  I 
thought  all  was  over. 

"  Not  long  afterwards  (it  was  impossible  to  measure  time,  but 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO 


399 


I  must  have  fallen  in  less  than  ten  minutes  after  the  onset)  a 
tirailleur  stopped  to  plunder  me,  threatening  my  life.  I  directed 
him  to  a  small  side  pocket,  in  which  he  found  three  dollars,  all 
I  had;  but  he  continued  to  threaten,  and  I  said  he  might  search 
me:  this  he  did  immediately,  unloosing  my  stock  and  tearing 
open  my  waist  coat,  and  leaving  me  in  a  very  uneasy  posture. 

"  But  he  was  no  sooner  gone  than  an  officer  bringing  up  some 
troops,  to  which  probably  the  tirailleur  belonged,  and  happen- 
ing to  halt  where  I  lay,  stooped  down  and  addressed  me,  saying 
he  feared  I  was  badly  wounded ;  I  said  that  I  was,  and  expressed 
a  wish  to  be  removed  to  the  rear.  He  said  it  was  against  their 
orders  to  remove  even  their  own  men ;  but  that  if  they  gained 
the  day  (and  he  understood  that  the  Duke  of  Wellington  was 
killed,  and  that  some  of  our  battalions  had  surrendered),  every 
attention  in  his  power  would  be  shown  me.  I  complained  of 
thirst,  and  he  held  his  brandy-bottle  to  my  lips,  directing  one 
of  the  soldiers  to  lay  me  straight  on  my  side  and  place  a  knap- 
sack under  my  head.  He  then  passed  on  into  action — soon, 
perhaps,  to  want,  though  not  receive,  the  same  assistance ;  and 
I  shall  never  know  to  whose  generosity  I  was  indebted,  as  I 
believe,  for  my  life.  Of  what  rank  he  was,  I  cannot  say :  he 
wore  a  great-coat.  By  and  by  another  tirailleur  came  up,  a 
fine  young  man,  full  of  ardor.  He  knelt  down  and  fired  over 
me,  loading  and  firing  many  times,  and  conversing  with  me  all 
the  while."  The  Frenchman,  with  strange  coolness,  informed 
Ponsonby  of  how  he  was  shooting,  and  what  he  thought  of 
the  progress  of  the  battle.  "  At  last  he  ran  ofif,  exclaiming, 
'  You  will  probably  not  be  sorry  to  hear  that  we  are  going  to 
retreat.  Good  day,  my  friend.'  It  was  dusk,"  Ponsonby  adds, 
"  when  two  squadrons  of  Prussian  cavalry,  each  of  them  two 
deep,  came  across  the  valley  and  passed  over  me  in  full  trot, 
lifting  me  from  the  ground  and  tumbling  me  about  cruelly. 
The  clatter  of  their  approach,  and  the  apprehensions  they  ex- 
cited, may  be  imagined ;  a  gun  taking  that  direction  must  have 
destroyed  me. 

"  The  battle  was  now  at  an  end,  or  removed  to  a  distance. 
The  shouts,  the  imprecations,  the  outcries  of  *  Vive  I'Empc- 
reur! '  the  discharge  of  musketry  and  cannon,  were  over;  and 
the  groans  of  the  wounded  all  around  me  became  every  moment 
mor'e  and  more  audible.    I  thought  the  night  would  never  end. 

"  Much  about  this  time  I  found  a  soldier  of  the  Royals  lying 


400  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

across  my  legs — he  had  probably  crawled  thither  in  his  agony; 
and  his  weight,  his  convulsive  motions,  and  the  air  issuing 
through  a  wound  in  his  side,  distressed  me  greatly;  the  last 
circumstance  most  of  all,  as  I  had  a  wound  of  the  same  nature 
myself. 

"  It  was  not  a  dark  night,  and  the  Prussians  were  wandering 
about  to  plunder;  the  scene  in  '  Ferdinand  Count  Fathom  '  came 
into  my  mind,  though  no  women  appeared.  Several  stragglers 
looked  at  me,  as  they  passed  by,  one  after  another,  and  at  last 
one  of  them  stopped  to  examine  me.  I  told  him  as  well  as  I 
could,  for  I  spoke  German  very  imperfectly,  that  I  was  a  British 
ofificer,  and  had  been  plundered  already;  he  did  not  desist,  how- 
ever, and  pulled  me  about  roughly. 

"  An  hour  before  midnight  I  saw  a  man  in  an  English  uni- 
form walking  towards  me.  He  was,  I  suspect,  on  the  same  er- 
rand, and  he  came  and  looked  in  my  face.  I  spoke  instantly, 
telling  him  who  I  was,  and  assuring  him  of  a  reward  if  he  would 
remain  by  me.  He  said  he  belonged  to  the  40th,  and  had  missed 
his  regiment ;  he  released  me  from  the  dying  soldier,  and,  being 
unarmed,  took  up  a  sword  from  the  ground  and  stood  over  me, 
pacing  backward  and  forward. 

"  Day  broke;  and  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  some  Eng- 
lish were  seen  at  a  distance,  and  he  ran  to  them.  A  messenger 
being  sent  ofif  to  Hervey,  a  cart  came  for  me,  and  I  was  placed 
in  it,  and  carried  to  the  village  of  Waterloo,  a  mile  and  a  half  off, 
and  laid  in  the  bed  from  which,  as  I  understood  afterwards,  Gor- 
don had  been  just  carried  out.  I  had  received  seven  wounds; 
a  surgeon  slept  in  my  room,  and  I  was  saved  by  excessive  bleed- 
ing." 

Major  Macready,  in  the  journal  already  cited,  justly  praises 
the  deep  devotion  to  their  emperor  which  marked  the  French 
at  Waterloo.  Never,  indeed,  had  the  national  bravery  of  the 
French  people  been  more  nobly  shown.  One  soldier  in  the 
French  ranks  was  seen,  when  his  arm  was  shattered  by  a  cannon- 
ball,  to  wrench  it  off  with  the  other;  and,  throwing  it  up  in  the 
air,  he  exclaimed  to  his  comrades,  "  Vive  I'Einpereiir  jusqu'a  la 
mort!"  Colonel  Lemonnier-Delafosse  mentions  in  his  "  Me- 
moires  "  that,  at  the  beginning  of  the  action,  a  French  soldier 
who  had  had  both  legs  carried  off  by  a  cannon-ball  was  borne 
past  the  front  of  Foy's  division,  and  called  out  to  them,  "  Ce 
n'cst  rien,  camaradcs!    Vive  I'Empereur!    Gloire  a  la  France!" 


BATTLE    OF    WATERLOO  401 

The  same  officer,  at  the  end  of  the  battle,  when  all  hope  was  lost, 
tells  us  that  he  saw  a  French  grenadier,  blackened  with  powder 
and  with  his  clothes  torn  and  stained,  leaning  on  his  musket  and 
immovable  as  a  statue.  The  colonel  called  to  him  to  join  his 
comrades  and  retreat;  but  the  grenadier  showed  him  his  musket 
and  his  hands  and  said,  "  These  hands  have  with  this  musket 
used  to-day  more  than  twenty  packets  of  cartridges:  it  was  more 
than  my  share.  I  supplied  myself  with  ammunition  from  the 
dead.  Leave  me  to  die  here  on  the  field  of  battle.  It  is  not  cour- 
age that  fails  me,  but  strength."  Then,  as  Colonel  Delafosse  left 
him,  the  soldier  stretched  himself  on  the  ground  to  meet  his  fate, 
exclaiming,  "  ToiLt  est  perdu!  panvre  France!"  The  gallantry 
of  the  French  officers  at  least  equalled  that  of  their  men.  Ney, 
in  particular,  set  the  example  of  the  most  daring  courage.  Here, 
as  in  every  French  army  in  which  he  ever  served  or  commanded, 
he  was  "  le  brave  des  braves."  Throughout  the  day  he  was  in 
the  front  of  the  battle,  and  was  one  of  the  very  last  Frenchmen 
who  quitted  the  field.  His  horse  was  killed  under  him  in  the  last 
attack  made  on  the  English  position;  but  he  was  seen  on  foot, 
his  clothes  torn  with  bullets,  his  face  smirched  with  powder, 
striving,  sword  in  hand,  first  to  urge  his  men  forward,  and  at  last 
to  check  their  flight. 

There  was  another  brave  general  of  the  French  army,  whose 
valor  and  good  conduct  on  that  day  of  disaster  to  his  nation 
should  never  be  unnoticed  when  the  story  of  Waterloo  is  re- 
counted. This  was  General  Pelet,  who,  about  seven  in  the  even- 
ing, led  the  first  battalion  of  the  2d  regiment  of  the  Chasseurs  of 
the  Guard  to  the  defense  of  Planchenoit,  and  on  whom  Napoleon 
personally  urged  the  deep  importance  of  maintaining  possession 
of  that  village.  Pelet  and  his  men  took  their  post  in  the  central 
part  of  the  village,  and  occupied  the  church  and  churchyard  in 
great  strength.  There  they  repelled  every  assault  of  the  Prus- 
sians, who  in  rapidly  increasing  numbers  rushed  forward  with 
infuriated  pertinacity.  They  held  their  post  till  the  utter  rout  of 
the  main  army  of  their  comrades  was  apparent  and  the  victorious 
Allies  were  thronging  around  Planchenoit.  Then  Pelet  and  his 
brave  Chasseurs  quitted  the  churchyard  and  retired  with  steady 
march,  though  they  suffered  fearfully  from  the  moment  they  left 
their  shelter,  and  Prussian  cavalry  as  well  as  infantry  dashed 
fiercely  after  them.  Pelet  kept  together  a  little  knot  of  250  vet- 
erans, and  had  the  eagle  covered  over  and  borne  along  in  the 
26 


402  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

midst  of  them.  At  one  time  the  inequahty  of  the  ground  caused 
his  ranks  to  open  a  Httle,  and  in  an  instant  the  Prussian  horsemen 
were  on  them  and  striving  to  capture  the  eagle.  Captain  Siborne 
relates  the  conduct  of  Pelet  with  the  admiration  worthy  of  one 
brave  soldier  for  another : — 

"  Pelet,  taking  advantage  of  a  spot  of  ground  which  afiforded 
them  some  degree  of  cover  against  the  fire  of  grape  by  which 
they  were  constantly  assailed,  halted  the  standard-bearer,  and 
called  out,  'A  moi,  Chasseurs!  Sauvons  I'aiglc,  ou  mourons 
autoiir  d'elle! '  The  Chasseurs  immediately  pressed  around  him, 
forming  what  is  usually  termed  the  rallying  square,  and,  lower- 
ing their  bayonets,  succeeded  in  repulsing  the  charge  of  cavalry. 
Some  guns  were  then  brought  to  bear  upon  them,  and  subse- 
quently a  brisk  fire  of  musketry ;  but  notwithstanding  the  awful 
sacrifice  which  was  thus  offered  up  in  defense  of  their  precious 
charge,  they  succeeded  in  reaching  the  main  line  of  retreat, 
favored  by  the  universal  confusion,  as  also  by  the  general  ob- 
scurity which  now  prevailed,  and  thus  saved  alike  the  eagle  and 
the  honor  of  the  regiment." 

French  writers  do  injustice  to  their  own  army  and  general 
when  they  revive  malignant  calumnies  against  Wellington  and 
speak  of  his  having  blundered  into  victory.  No  blunderer  could 
have  successfully  encountered  such  troops  as  those  of  Napoleon 
and  under  such  a  leader.  It  is  superfluous  to  cite  against  these 
cavils  the  testimony  which  other  Continental  critics  have  borne 
to  the  high  military  genius  of  our  illustrious  chief.  I  refer  to 
one  only,  which  is  of  peculiar  value  on  account  of  the  quarter 
whence  it  comes.  It  is  that  of  the  great  German  writer  Niebuhr, 
whose  accurate  acquaintance  with  every  important  scene  of  mod- 
ern as  well  as  ancient  history  was  unparalleled,  and  who  was  no 
mere  pedant,  but  a  man  practically  versed  in  active  life,  and  had 
been  personally  acquainted  with  most  of  the  leading  men  in  the 
igreat  events  of  the  early  part  of  this  century.  Niebuhr,  in  the 
passage  which  I  allude  to,  after  referring  to  the  military  "  blun- 
ders "  of  Mithridates,  Frederick  the  Great,  Napoleon,  Pyrrhus, 
and  Hannibal,  uses  these  remarkable  words:  "The  Duke  of 
Wellington  is,  I  believe,  the  only  general  in  whose  conduct  of 
war  we  cannot  discover  any  important  mistake."  Not  that  it  is 
to  be  supposed  that  the  duke's  merits  were  simply  of  a  negative 
order,  or  that  he  was  merely  a  cautious,  phlegmatic  general,  fit 
only  for  defensive  warfare,  as  some  recent  French  historians 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO  403 

have  described  him.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  bold  even  to  au- 
dacity when  boldness  was  required.  "  The  intrepid  advance  and 
fight  at  Assaye,  the  crossing  of  the  Douro,  and  the  movement 
on  Talavera  in  1809,  the  advance  to  Madrid  and  Burgos  in  1812, 
the  action  before  Bayonne  in  1813,  and  the  desperate  stand  made 
at  Waterloo  itself,  when  more  tamely  prudent  generals  would 
have  retreated  beyond  Brussels,  place  this  beyond  a  doubt." 

The  overthrow  of  the  French  military  power  at  Waterloo  was 
so  complete  that  the  subsequent  events  of  the  brief  campaign 
have  little  interest.  Lamartine  truly  says :  "  This  defeat  left 
nothing  undecided  in  future  events,  for  victory  had  given  judg- 
ment. The  war  began  and  ended  in  a  single  battle."  Napoleon 
himself  recognized  instantly  and  fully  the  deadly  nature  of  the 
blow  which  had  been  dealt  to  his  empire.  In  his  flight  from  the 
battle-field  he  first  halted  at  Charleroi,  but  the  approach  of  the 
pursuing  Prussians  drove  him  thence  before  he  had  rested  there 
an  hour.  With  difficulty  getting  clear  of  the  wrecks  of  his  own 
army,  he  reached  Philippeville,  where  he  remained  a  few  hours, 
and  sent  orders  to  the  French  generals  in  the  various  extremities 
of  France  to  converge  with  their  troops  upon  Paris.  Fie  or- 
dered Soult  to  collect  the  fugitives  of  his  own  force  and  lead 
them  to  Laon.  He  then  hurried  forward  to  Paris,  and  reached 
his  capital  before  the  news  of  his  own  defeat.  But  the  stern  truth 
soon  transpired.  At  the  demand  of  the  Chambers  of  Peers  and 
Representatives,  he  abandoned  the  throne  by  a  second  and  final 
abdication  on  the  226.  of  June.  On  the  29th  of  June  he  left  the 
neighborhood  of  Paris,  and  proceeded  to  Rochefort  in  the  hope 
of  escaping  to  America;  but  the  coast  was  strictly  watched,  and 
on  the  15th  of  July  the  ex-emperor  surrendered  himself  on  board 
of  the  English  man-of-war  BcUcrophon. 

Meanwhile  the  alHed  armies  had  advanced  steadily  upon  Paris, 
driving  before  them  Grouchy's  corps  and  the  scanty  force  which 
Soult  had  succeeded  in  rallying  at  Laon.  Cambray,  Peronne, 
and  other  fortresses  were  speedily  captured;  and  by  the  29th  of 
June  the  invaders  were  taking  their  positions  in  front  of  Paris. 
The  Provisional  Government,  which  acted  in  the  French  cap- 
ital after  the  emperor's  abdication,  opened  negotiations  with 
the  allied  chiefs.  Bliicher,  in  his  quenchless  hatred  of  the  French, 
was  eager  to  reject  all  proposals  for  a  suspension  of  hostilities, 
and  to  assault  and  storm  the  city.  But  the  sager  and  calmer 
spirit  of  Wellington  prevaij'^d  over  his  colleague;  the  entreated 


404  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

armistice  was  granted;  and  on  the  3d  of  July  the  capitulation  of 
Paris  terminated  the  war  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo. 

On  closing  our  observations  on  this,  the  last  of  the  Decisive 
Battles  of  the  World,  it  is  pleasing  to  contrast  the  year  which 
it  signalized  with  the  one  that  is  now  passing  over  our  heads. 
We  have  not  (and  long  may  we  be  without)  the  stern  excite- 
ment of  the  struggles  of  war,  and  we  see  no  captive  standards 
of  our  European  neighbors  brought  in  triumph  to  our  shrines. 
But  we  behold  an  infinitely  prouder  spectacle.  We  see  the  ban- 
ners of  every  civilized  nation  waving  over  the  arena  of  our  com- 
petition with  each  other  in  the  arts  that  minister  to  our  race's 
support  and  happiness,  and  not  to  its  suffering  and  destruction. 

"  Peace  hath  her  victories 
No  less  renowned  than  War ;  " 

and  no  battle-field  ever  witnessed  a  victory  more  noble  than 
that  which  England,  under  her  sovereign  lady  and  her  royal 
prince,  is  now  teaching  the  peoples  of  the  earth  to  achieve  over 
selfish  prejudices  and  international  feuds,  in  the  great  cause  of 
the  general  promotion  of  the  industry  and  welfare  of  mankind. 


Synopsis  of  Events  in  European  History  between  the 
Battle  of  Waterloo^  a.d.  18 15,  and  the  Battle  of 
Sedan,  a.d.  1870. 

Flight  of  Louis  Philippe  from  Paris  and  establishment  of 
the  Second  French  Republic,  February,  1848. 

Insurrection  at  Berlin  in  favor  of  a  constitutional  monarchy 
to  replace  the  older  despotic  order -of  things,  March,  1848. 

Louis  Napoleon,  nephew  of  Napoleon  L,  having  been  elected 
President  of  the  French  Republic,  has  himself  declared  Em- 
peror of  the  French  by  means  of  the  "  Coup  d'Etat,"  Decem- 
ber 2,  1851. 

Peace  of  Villa  Franca  ends  the  war  between  France  and 
Italy  on  the  one  side,  and  Austria  on  the  other,  July  11,  1859. 

Prussian  victory  over  Austria  at  Sadowa  (Koniggratz),  July 
3d,  leading  to  Peace  of  Nikolsburg,  July  26th,  and  formation 
of  North  German  Confederation,  August,  1866. 

Settlement  of  the  Luxembourg  Question,  May  11,  1867. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG,  A.D.   1863. 

THE  Civil  War  in  America,  from  1861  to  1865,  was  an  in- 
evitable happening-.  In  a  country  whose  freedom  from 
England  had  been  achieved  in  the  sacred  name  of 
human  liberty,  negro  slavery  still  existed — the  country  being 
half  slave  and  half  free.  That  a  government  formed  of  sov- 
ereign States  could  continue  under  such  conditions  without 
a  revolution  was  impossible.  The  blow  fell  when  Lincoln  was 
elected  President  of  the  United  States,  and  South  Carolina  and 
several  other  States  seceded  from  the  Union.  Buchanan, 
whose  term  as  President  was  about  to  expire,  paltered  with  the 
situation  and  so  the  seceding  States  became  more  confident, 
and  an  army  of  defence  was  quickly  organized.  The  actual 
fighting  began  at  Bull  Run,  in  Virginia,  though  the  first  shots 
had  been  fired  at  Fort  Sumter,  in  Charleston  harbor.  The 
Union  or  Northern  troops  were  completely  routed  at  Bull  Run  ; 
there  was  consternation  in  the  North  and  a  corresponding  ex- 
ultation in  the  South.  The  Civil  War  had  now  begun  in  ear- 
nest, and  not  only  human  slavery,  but  democratic  government 
was  on  its  trial.  At  the  beginning  success  was  mostly  with 
the  Southern  or  Confederate  forces.  It  is  true  that  Grant 
gained  some  victories  in  the  West,  and  that  McClellan,  in  the 
East,  fought  some  drawn  battles.  But  fortune  seemed  with  the 
Confederates.  By  this  time  the  people  in  the  South  were  as 
one  man,  and  zealous  for  independence  with  slavery.  In  the 
North,  public  opinion  was  much  divided,  and  there  was  a  strong 
party  that  was  in  favor  of  ending  the  war  as  quickly  as  possible 
and  at  any  sacrifice.  And  so  the  Federal  Government  was  at- 
tacked in  front  by  a  victorious  army  under  a  very  able  general, 
and  harassed  in  the  rear  by  a  political  party  which,  if  not  dis- 
loyal, was  certainly  not  zealous  in  support  of  the  Union  cause. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  Grant  conquered  at  Vicksburg  and 
Meade  won  at  Gettysburg. 

405 


4o6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

This  was  the  turning  point  of  the  war.  If  Lee  had  beaten 
Meade,  the  North  would  have  been  in  a  panic  of  fear  and  the 
Union  disrupted ;  but,  as  Lee  was  beaten,  the  Confederates 
were,  thereafter,  on  the  defensive.  The  Confederate  hope  was 
not  utterly  destroyed  at  Gettysburg ;  had  the  issue  been  differ- 
ent, however,  Union  hope  would  have  been  destroyed.  And 
so  Gettysburg  was  one  of  the  great  decisive  battles  of  the 
world. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  summer  of  1863,  the  command  of 
the  Union  Army  had  passed  from  Winfield  Scott  to  McClel- 
lan,  and  from  McClellan  to  Halleck,  as  if  Lincoln  were  making 
a  series  of  experiments  in  the  hope  of  finding  a  competent  gen- 
eral. The  first  days  of  May  of  that  year  saw  Lee,  with  an 
army  of  Confederates  greatly  inferior  in  numbers  to  his  ad- 
versary's, driving  Hooker  from  the  field  of  Chancellorsville 
with  heavy  loss.  This  victory  was,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Con- 
federates, nothing  more  than  the  natural  culmination  of  the 
series  of  triumphs  over  the  Northerners  which  they  had  so  far 
regarded  as  a  mere  matter  of  course.  The  victory  gained  by 
Meade  two  months  later,  though,  in  a  purely  strategic  sense, 
it  was  not  a  decisive  victory  at  all,  had  the  moral  effect  of  con- 
vincing thousands  of  doubters  that  there  was  still  hope  for 
the  preservation  of  the  Union,  while,  politically,  it  stopped  Lee 
in  a  movement  which  might  very  well  have  ended  in  his  dic- 
tating the  terms  of  peace  to  Lincoln's  cabinet  at  Washington. 

After  the  victory  of  Chancellorsville,  it  virtually  rested  with 
Lee  to  determine  the  line  of  that  season's  campaign.  He  stood 
between  Richmond  and  Washington,  and  might  defend  the 
one  capital  or  threaten  the  other  as  he  chose.  His  choice  was 
to  defend  Richmond  by  threatening  Washington. 

The  forces  under  Lee's  command  were  divided  in  three 
corps  under  Longstreet,  Ewell,  and  A.  P.  Hill,  respectively. 
Ewell  attacked  and  routed  Milroy  on  June  15th,  thus  clearing 
the  line  of  march  up  the  valley  of  Virginia,  and  Longstreet  and 
A.  P.  Hill  soon  followed.  By  the  twenty-seventh  of  June,  Lee 
himself,  with  Hill's  and  Longstreet's  corps,  was  at  Chambers- 
burg,  Pa.,  while  Ewell  was  at  Carlisle,  and  threatened  Harris- 
burg,  the  State  capital.  The  people  of  the  North  began  to  feel 
that  their  country  was  in  imminent  danger  of  being  overrun 
by  the  enemy. 

On  the  twenty-eighth,  Hooker,  having  been  refused  a  re- 


THE   BATTLE   OF    GETTYSBURG 


407 


quest  made  by  him  to  Halleck,  resigned  the  command  of  the 
Union  Army  on  the  Potomac  and  was  succeeded  by  Meade. 
Meade  recognized  the  fact  that  Lee  was  gradually,  but  surely, 
separating  himself  perilously  from  his  base  and  jeoparding  his 
communications  ;  it,  therefore,  became  the  Union  general's  im- 
mediate object  to  place  his  army  in  Lee's  rear  and  so  cut  him 
off.  Lee,  on  his  side,  consummate  strategist  as  he  was,  was 
fully  alive  to  this  danger.  He  saw  that  it  would  be  folly  for  him 
to  push  on  any  further  until  Meade's  army,  which  hung  on  his 
rear  and  flank,  should  at  least  be  crippled. 

So  far  the  Confederate  leader  was  right.  Whatever  error 
he  may  have  committed  in  the  battle  that  followed  is  fairly  at- 
tributable to  his  lack  of  information  as  to  the  distribution  of 
the  Union  forces.  J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  the  famous  cavalry  leader, 
upon  whom  Lee  had  learned  to  rely  for  intelligence  of  the  en- 
emy, had  been  left  in  Virginia,  harassing  the  enemy's  rear,  and 
had  made  so  extensive  a  raid  through  the  enemy's  country 
that  he  did  not  rejoin  his  own  army  until  late  on  the  third  of 
July.  And  not  only  was  Lee  left  in  the  dark  for  lack  of  means 
to  reconnoitre,  but  Stuart's  absence  positively  misled  him,  since 
he  took  it  as  an  indication  that  the  main  body  of  Meade's  army 
was  still  on  the  other  side'of  the  Potomac. 

On  the  morning  of  July  ist,  A.  P.  Hill's  corps  had  ap- 
proached the  town  of  Gettysburg  on  the  north  and  was  scat- 
tered along  the  Chambersburg  turnpike.  Opposite  to  Hill's 
position  and  about  a  mile  and  a  half  outside  the  town,  was 
Buford,  with  a  force  of  some  6,000  Union  cavalry.  It  was  here 
that  the  first  day's  battle  began.  Hill  sent  word  to  his  chief 
that  he  was  going  to  attack  in  force  and  received  Lee's  con- 
sent. The  Confederate  general  had  already  made  up  his  mind 
that  the  great  battle  of  this  campaign  must  be  fought  at  Get- 
tysburg. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  the  cavalry  force  which  Hill's 
advance  had  attacked  was  no  mere  party  of  reconnaissance  that 
had  wandered  far  from  its  main  body.  Large  bodies  of  infantry 
soon  began  arriving  to  support  Buford,  and  so  began  the 
first  struggle  for  Seminary  Ridge,  or,  to  be  more  precise,  for 
the  slight  elevation  which  forms  the  continuation  of  Seminary 
Ridge  to  the  west  of  the  town.  The  first  advantage  was  with 
the  Union  troops,  but  in  a  few  hours  the  whole  or  a  greater 
part  of  A.  P.  Hill's  corps  had  arrived  from  the  direction  of 


4o8  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

Chambersburg,  and,  with  Ewell's  coming  from  Carlisle,  to  the 
north  of  the  position,  formed  an  aggregate  force  of  some 
50,000  men,  which  by  far  outnumbered  the  Federal  troops 
actually  opposed  to  it.  The  latter  were  steadily  pushed  back 
towards  Seminary  Ridge,  then  driven  pell-mell  through  the 
town  itself,  losing,  it  is  estimated,  about  5,000  of  their  number 
in  killed  and  wounded,  and  as  many  again  taken  prisoners, 
while  the  list  of  killed  and  wounded  on  the  Confederate  side 
was,  if  anything,  larger. 

Meanwhile,  General  Meade,  at  Pipe  Creek,  fifteen  miles  to 
the  southeast  of  the  scene  of  battle,  learned  that  fighting  was 
going  on  at  Gettysburg  and  dispatched  Hancock  to  take  the 
command,  with  discretionary  authority.  Hancock,  on  arriv- 
ing, sent  back  urgent  word  to  his  chief  to  push  the  Union  forces 
northward  as  fast  as  possible,  which  Meade  did.  The  conse- 
quence was  that,  by  the  morning  of  July  2d,  the  scant  30,000 
Union  troops  that  had  begun  the  first  day's  battle  were  in- 
creased, with  all  allowance  for  losses  already  inflicted,  to  as 
many  as  75,000  men,  a  force  numerically  equal  to  Lee's. 

South  of  Gettysburg,  and  facing  Seminary  Ridge,  from 
which  it  is  separated  by  a  depression  about  1,400  yards  wide,  is 
a  height  called  Cemetery  Ridge.  This  rising  curves  at  its 
northern  end  to  the  east,  in  such  a  way  as  to  present  a  broad 
bastion  to  the  southern  side  of  the  town  of  Gettysburg,  and 
terminates  in  Gulp's  Hill,  to  the  southeast  of  the  town.  Here 
was  the  key  of  the  whole  position.  On  the  morning  of  the 
second  day  the  whole  line  of  Cemetery  Ridge  was  occupied  by 
the  Union  forces  under  Hancock,  while  two  of  Lee's  three 
corps — Hill's  and  Longstreet's — occupied  Seminary  Ridge, 
and  the  third — Ewell's — lay  at  the  foot  of  Gulp's  Hill. 

Still  unaware,  it  seems,  of  the  strength  of  the  forces  opposed 
to  him,  Lee  ordered  Longstreet,  on  the  extreme  south  of  Sem- 
inary Ridge,  to  attack  the  enemy's  strong  position  directly  op- 
posite him,  on  Round  Top,  the  southern  point  of  Cemetery 
Ridge.  A  mere  accident,  General  Sickles  having  disobeyed  or 
mistaken  the  orders  of  Meade,  who  had  now  arrived  on  the 
field,  resulted  in  Longstreet's  corps  being  allowed  to  break  in 
on  the  Union's  left.  But  for  another  mere  accident,  by  which 
it  was  discovered  in  time  that  Little  Round  Top,  a  position  of 
the  greatest  importance,  had  been  left  unoccupied,  that  eleva- 
tion would  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  same  corps. 


THE   BATTLE    OF   GETTYSBURG  409 

On  Meade's  right,  Ewell's  attack  on  Gulp's  Hill  was  delayed 
undi  late  in  the  day,  but  was  eventually  successful. 
VBy  the  prompt  action  of  Hancock,  who  succeeded  Sickles 
when  the  latter  was  wounded,  the  Confederates  were  prevented 
from  holding  Little  Round  Top,  but  Longstreet's  men  at  the 
close  of  the  day  still  held  the  gap  in  Cemetery  Ridge  which  they 
had  won  through  Sickles'  disobedience  or  misunderstanding. 

Thus  the  second  day  of  Gettysburg  ended  with  Lee's  army 
by  no  means  beaten,  it  is  true,  yet  with  an  advantage  far  less 
than  that  which  had  been  theirs  at  the  end  of  the  first  day's 
fight.  Half  of  Sickles' — now  Hancock's — corps  had  been  cut 
to  pieces,  and  the  Union  losses  were  again  placed  at  10,000. 
But  the  gains  of  position  to  the  Confederates  were  strategically 
of  little  value.  Still  Lee  was  determined  to  fight  yet  another 
day  on  the  same  line. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  July  3d.  Meade  began  his  attack  on 
the  Confederates'  left.  The  position?  which  Ewell  had  gained 
on  the  previous  afternoon  were  assaulted  and  captured  early 
in  the  day.  And  this  time  accident  was  decidedly  in  favor  of  the 
Union  forces.  It  was  an  accident  that  Lee  remained  ignorant 
of  Ewell's  failure  to  hold  his  ground,  a  failure  which  meant 
much,  since  the  plans  for  that  day's  action  supposed  that  Ewell 
should  use  his  position  of  the  previous  evening  as  a  point  of 
departure  for  this  day's  attack. 

One  very  great  advantage  on  Lee's  side  was  the  character 
of  the  ground  on  Seminary  Ridge,  which  was  such  as  to  per- 
mit of  its  being  used  for  an  artillery  position,  while  the  ground 
opposite,  on  Cemetery  Ridge,  was  too  broken  for  any  such 
purpose.  Meade  was  at  least  as  well  supplied  with  artillery  as 
was  Lee,  but  Lee  could  use  all  of  his,  and  Meade  could  use  only 
a  part  of  his.  The  Confederates  opened  fire  from  Seminary 
Ridge  at  a  little  after  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  with  120 
guns  ;  the  Federals  replied  with  only  eighty.  This  was  the  fa- 
mous artillery  duel  of  Gettysburg.  It  is  said,  whether  cor- 
rectly or  not,  that  Lee's  object  in  ordering  it  was  to  exhaust  the 
enemy's  supply  of  ammunition  and  destroy  his  guns,  so  that 
when  the  time  came  to  break  his  line  at  its  left  centre,  he  should 
be  left  weak  in  this  formidable  means  of  defence.  The  theory 
can  hardly  be  called  a  plausible  one.  Anyhow,  the  ending  of 
the  artillery  duel  was  unfortunate  for  the  Confederates.  And 
here,  too,  misfortune  came  by  accident. 


4IO 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


At  about  three  o'clock  Hunt,  who  directed  the  Union  artil- 
lery, gave  the  order  to  cease  firing.  His  object  in  doing  this 
was  simply  to  let  the  dense  smoke  blow  away,  in  order  that  bJb 
gunners  might  get  a  view  of  the  enemy's  movements.  The 
same  thing  has  repeatedly  been  done  in  more  recent  battles 
for  much  the  same  reason,  though  with  smokeless  powder  it 
would  be  unnecessary.  Lee,  unfortunately  for  him,  inter- 
preted the  lull  in  the  firing  to  mean  that  the  Union  guns  had 
been  pretty  well  placed  hors  de  combat.  From  this  he  argued 
that  it  was  time  to  develop  his  grand  attack. 

Lee  was  cruelly  undeceived.  The  forward  movement  which 
through  Longstreet  he  then  directed — or  permitted — was  that 
"  Pickett's  charge,"  the  fame  of  which  has  spread  all  over  the 
globe,  wherever  the  stories  of  battles  are  read.  Every  English, 
Australian,  or  Canadian  schoolboy  knows  of  it ;  certainly  every 
American  schoolboy  should  know  of  it.  It  was  a  terrible  and 
wonderful  thing,  fully  as  wonderful  as  the  charge  at  Balaklava, 
which  Tennyson  immortalized  in  verse. 

Opposite  Longstreet's  left  w^as  the  angle  of  the  stone  wall 
which  surrounded  the  cemetery  on  Cemetery  Hill.  General 
Pickett,  with  his  veteran  division  of  Virginians,  and  Petti- 
grew's,  comprising  a  force  of  i8,ogo  men,  was  to  charge  the 
enemy  with  this  point  as  their  central  objective.  Pickett  him- 
self "  had  no  faith  in  the  movement,"  it  is  said.  Longstreet, 
when  Pickett  asked  him,  "  Shall  I  move  on  that  point,  Gen- 
eral? "  bit  his  lip  and  hesitated.  But  Longstreet  did  not  say, 
"  No,"  and  so  Pickett  moved  on  that  point. 

Then  it  was  that  Lee  found  how  mistaken  he  had  been  about 
the  condition  of  the  Union  artillery.  From  end  to  end  of  the 
Cemetery  Ridge  the  guns  opened  fire  on  Pickett's  men.  Lee's 
original  intention  of  advancing  his  artillery  to  support  this 
charge  could  not  be  carried  out,  because,  in  fact,  it  appeared 
that  the  Confederate  ammunition  was  running  short.  So 
Pickett's  charge  went  unsupported.  It  was  aimed  at  first  for 
Doubleday's  division,  but  soon  changed  its  course  when  Pick- 
ett noticed  that  this  body  of  troops  fought  behind  breastworks. 
Inclining  to  the  Federal  right,  the  column  made  for  Hancock's 
corps — the  same  that  had  fought  and  suffered  so  terribly  when 
it  was  Sickles'  the  day  before.  Hancock  waited  until  Petti- 
grew's  brigade  had  got  to  within  300  yards,  then  he  gave  volley 
after  volley,  sending  it  to  atoms.     The  resf  of  Pickett's  men 


THE    BATTLE    OF    GETTYSBURG  411 

went  on  until  they  had  charged  over  the  stone  wall  of  the 
cemetery  and  into  the  midst  of  the  Union  batteries.  Then 
from  all  sides  the  Northerners  crowded  in  upon  them  and 
forced  them  almost  by  sheer  pressure  of  numbers  back,  down 
the  slopes. 

The  end  of  Pickett's  charge  was  that  only  about  twenty  per 
cent,  of  Pickett's  men  came  out  of  it  alive. 

Then  Meade  thought  it  time  to  deliver  his  final  blow.  Hood, 
on  Lee's  right,  was  driven  back,  and  the  Confederate  hopes  of 
crushing  the  army  that  threatened  their  communications  were 
at  an  end.  Meade  did  not  follow  up  his  victory  by  a  resolute 
pursuit  of  Lee,  but  rested  his  men  and  permitted  Lee  to  recross 
the  Potomac.  Military  critics  think  that  Lee  might  have  been 
destroyed  during  the  retreat,  and  the  war  ended  at  once,  if 
Meade  had  seen  fit  to  gather  the  full  fruits  of  his  victory. 

By  this  remarkable  series  of  bloody  struggles,  in  which,  it  is 
said,  the  losers  lost  some  15,500  men,  killed  and  wounded,  and 
the  victors  over  16,000,  Lee's  invasion  of  the  North  was  put 
a  stop  to.  It  was  Gettysburg  that  aroused  the  North  to  strug- 
gle more  earnestly  than  ever  before  for  the  preservation  of  the 
Union.  And  after  Gettysburg,  until  the  final  surrender,  Lee 
never  again  found  himself  in  the  position  of  an  invader,  the 
Confederacy  being  thencefor\vard  on  the  defensive. 

Synopsis  of  Events  in  American  History  between  the 
Battle  of  Gettysburg,  a.d.  1863,  and  the  War  with 
Spain,  a.d.   1898. 

Lee  surrenders,  with  the  Confederate  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia,  to  General  Grant,  at  Appomattox,  April  9,  1865. 

Abraham  Lincoln  assassinated  at  Ford's  Theatre,  Washing- 
ton, by  Wilkes  Booth,  April  14,  1865. 

"  The  World's  Columbian  Exposition,"  at  Chicago,  opened 
by  President  Cleveland,  in  the  presence  of  the  Spanish  Duke 
of  Veragua,  a  lineal  descendant  of  Columbus,  May  i,  1893. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  BATTLE   OF  SEDAN,  A.D.  1870. 

WHEN  Louis  Napoleon  said  "  The  Empire  is  Peace,"  he 
probably  intended  to  register  in  history  something  epi- 
grammatic that  should  match  the  famous  "  My  an- 
cestors are  myself "  of  his  uncle,  and  the  still  more  famous 
"  The  State  is  I  "  of  Louis  XIV.  The  great  difference  between 
the  latest  of  these  three  mots  and  the  two  former  was  that  there 
was  no  truth  whatever  in  what  Napoleon  HI.  said.  The  French 
Empire  that  began  in  the  coup  d'etat  of  185 1  and  ended  at 
Sedan  was  not  peace,  even  if  it  was  not  war;  its  existence  de- 
pended to  a  considerable  degree  upon  the  survival  of  a  popular 
belief  that  the  military  glory  of  France  was  rooted  in  the  Na- 
poleonic tradition.  To  keep  life  in  this  political  creed  Louis 
Napoleon  was  obliged  to  spend  his  time  in  either  waging  spec- 
tacular wars  or  commemorating  the  conquests  of  his  uncle  and 
himself,  or  scheming  to  filch  scraps  of  territory  from  other 
powers.  His  lot  was  surely  not  a  happy  one.  In  presence  of  3v 
large  and  noisy  minority  of  the  French  people  he  occupied  a 
position  comparable  to  that  of  an  acrobat,  whose  audience  is 
incessantly  howling  for  one  more  "  turn,"  offering  him  the  al- 
ternative of  being  hissed  and  pelted  off  the  stage.  He  was  tired 
in  his  muscles  and  at  his  wits'  end  to  devise  new  tricks  as  sub- 
stitutes for  genuine  feats  of  strength,  but  the  performance  had 
to  go  on. 

And  all  this  time  another  performance  was  going  on  across 
the  Rhine,  which  gave  great  uneasiness  both  to  the  Chauvinists 
and  to  many  of  the  quieter  and  wiser  among  the  French  people. 
Prussia — the  country  of  Frederick  the  Great  and  of  Bliicher — 
was  gaining  power  daily  under  the  hand  of  a  wonder-worker 
less  spectacular  than  Louis  Napoleon,  perhaps,  but  far  more 
really  effectual.  Guided  by  the  counsels  of  Bismarck,  William 
I.  had  used  Austria's  authority  and  assistance  to  wrest  Schleswig- 
Holstein  from  Denmark,  and  then  impudently  shouldered  Aus- 

412 


THE   BATTLE    OF    SEDAN 


413 


tria  away  from  the  spoils.  When  Austria  protested  against  such 
treatment  he  had  shattered  her  sword  at  Koniggratz,  in  1866, 
using  for  the  purpose  an  army  raised  and  maintained  only  by 
systematically  ignoring  the  Prussian  Constitution,  which  he  had 
sworn  to  respect,  and  then  with  the  glamour  of  that  very  victory 
he  had  bought  of  his  people  indemnity  for  his  crime  against 
their  liberties.  After  Koniggratz  the  old  Germanic  Confed- 
eration dissolved  itself,  and  its  northern  constituents  formed  a 
new  Confederation,  of  which  Prussia  was  the  leader.  Louis 
Napoleon  had  in  contemplation  a  most  striking  trick  to  offset 
this:  he  would  form  another  Confederation  of  the  South  Ger- 
man States  under  Austria.  But  before  that  feat  could  be  ac- 
complished it  was  found  that  Bismarck  and  his  master  had 
anticipated  it  in  their  quiet  way  by  concluding  secret  treaties 
with  Bavaria,  Wiirtemberg,  and  Hesse-Darmstadt. 

Add  to  all  this  that  the  projected  Franco-Austro-Mexican 
Empire  had  turned  out  an  unqualified  failure,  that  the  stupid 
King  of  Holland  had  ruined  with  his  absurd  honesty  the  tricl 
by  which  the  Duchy  of  Luxembourg  was  to  have  been  sud- 
denly found  on  the  French  side  of  the  boundary,  and  that  the 
scheme  for  bringing  the  Belgian  railroads  under  Napoleonic 
control  was  blocked,  and  it  appears  that  the  spectacular  Em- 
peror had  reason  to  feel  very  nervous  when  the  year  1869  came 
to  a  close.  The  great  Paris  Exposition  of  two  years  before 
had  been  a  gorgeous  success,  it  is  true,  offering  to  the  pubHc 
an  unparalleled  display  of  friendly  princes  and  potentates,  among 
whom  the  King  of  Prussia  and  his  son  Frederick  were  con- 
spicuous, and  France  had  just  reaped  all  the  glory  of  opening, 
in  the  Suez  Canal,  a  short  cut  to  India,  which  has  since  proved 
invaluable  to  England.  Still,  considering  what  was  going  on 
over  the  Rhine,  it  was  uneasily  felt  in  imperial  circles  that  the 
Napoleonic  performance  was  not  all  that  the  people  had  a  right 
to  expect. 

At  the  beginning  of  1870  it  was  joyfully  predicted  that  a  year 
of  general  peace  and  good-will  had  dawned.  An  English  states- 
man declared  in  a  moment  of  expansive  benevolence  to  all 
mankind  that  "  there  was  not  a  cloud  to  be  seen  on  the  political 
horizon."  In  one  way  at  least  the  Emperor  of  the  French  was 
testifying  in  the  sight  of  Heaven  and  his  own  conscience  his 
belief  in  his  own  saying,  "  The  Empire  is  Peace  ";  for  between 
him  and  his  military  favorites  the  empire's  army  had  been 


414  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

brought  to  a  condition  in  which  it  was  fit  for  nothing  but  peace; 
but  of  this  the  French  people,  who  paid  the  taxes,  were  not 
aware.  In  strong  contrast,  Bismarck  and  William  of  Prussia, 
while  they  fought  the  popular  representatives  by  fair  means 
and  foul  to  get  money  for  military  expenditures,  were  spending 
every  pfennig  they  could  get  on  that  for  which  they  professedly 
extorted  it — the  army.  And  all  this  time  Von  Roon,  Minister 
of  War,  and  Von  Moltke,  Chief  of  Staff,  were  completing  prepa- 
rations for  a  great  eventuality  which  nobody  dreamed  of  as  a 
near  probability. 

It  was  the  House  of  Hohenzollern,  of  which  William  I.  was 
hereditary  head,  that  gave  the  Emperor  his  opportunity  to  do 
something  for  the  Napoleonic  dynasty.  The  throne  of  Spain 
was  vacant,  and  the  Spanish  people,  having  tried  a  republic  for 
two  years,  were  already  tired  of  their  experiment.  Marshal 
Prim,  in  the  name  of  Spain,  offered  the  throne  to  first  one 
Hohenzollern  prince  and  then  another.  In  June,  1870,  it  was 
announced  that  Prince  Leopold  of  Hohenzollern  had  signified 
his  willingness  to  become  King  of  Spain.  Napoleon  must  have 
been  fully  aware,  months  before,  of  what  was  going  on  in  Ma- 
drid, for  all  these  things  were  not  done  in  a  corner.  Neverthe- 
less, as  the  French  people  were  in  a  mood  to  take  offence  at 
anything  that  might  promise  further  aggrandizement  to  the 
Prussian  crown,  it  was  his  cue  to  express  deep  pain  and  surprise 
at  what  had  occurred.  This  was  done  in  thorough  theatrical 
fashion  by  Benedetti,  the  French  Ambassador  to  Prussia,  who 
was  at  the  time  a  fellow-sojourner  with  King  William  at  the 
baths  of  Ems.  The  old  King  replied  with  perfect  civility  that 
what  his  kinsman  chose  to  do  about  the  Spanish  throne  was 
no  concern  of  his.  Prince  Leopold,  on  learning  that  his  pros- 
pective advancement  was  likely  to  embroil  Europe  in  a  war, 
withdrew  his  acceptance  of  Prim's  oft"er.  Nevertheless  Bene- 
detti dogged  the  footsteps  of  the  Prussian  King,  pestering  the 
old  man,  when  he  was  taking  his  early  walk  before  breakfast 
for  an  explicit  assurance  that  no  Hohenzollern  should  at  any 
future  time  become  sovereign  of  Spain.  The  sum  and  sub- 
stance of  the  various  accounts  of  what  took  place  between 
Benedetti  and  the  King  is  that  the  King  declined  further  to 
discuss  the  matter  with  the  ambassador.  War  was  declared  by 
the  Emperor  of  the  French  on  the  fifteenth  of  July — two  days 
after  the  abortive  interview  on  the  promenade  at  Ems,  in  which 


THE    BATTLE    OF    SEDAN  415 

France  had  seen  an  insult  to  her  ambassador,  and  Prussia  an 
insult  to  her  King. 

In  the  historical  dispute  as  to  whether  France  gave  the  provo- 
cation to  this  quarrel,  or  Prussia,  the  balance  of  circumstantial 
evidence  must  always  be  conceded  to  the  French  side,  inasmuch 
as  it  may  be  plausibly  argued  that  no  sane  government  would 
have  willingly  gone  to  war  trusting  in  so  ill-equipped  an  army 
as  the  French  then  was;  on  the  other  hand,  the  operations  of 
the  Germans  gave  evidence,  from  the  very  first,  of  long  and 
strenuous  preparation,  not  merely  for  war,  but  specially  for  this 
war.  It  may  or  may  not  be  literally  true  that  Von  Moltke  had 
only  to  open  his  bureau  and  take  from  its  proper  drawer  a  plan 
for  the  invasion  of  France  that  had  long  been  awaiting  its  turn 
for  execution,  but  it  is  certain  that  when  the  royal  decree  to 
mobilize  was  made  known  to  the  famous  Chief  of  Staff,  that 
greatest  of  modern  strategists  had  very  little  thinking  to  do. 
Everything  was  ready,  and  it  seemed  that  Moltke  had  only  to 
pull  a  cord,  which,  as  in  the  now  familiar  ceremony  of  opening 
an  industrial  exhibition,  set  all  the  complicated  machinery  in 
motion. 

Sixteen  days  after  the  declaration  of  war  the  foes  met  at 
Saarbrucken,  a  small  place  on  the  Prussian  side,  about  two 
miles  from  the  frontier.  The  arms  of  France  triumphed  on  this 
occasion,  and  the  outlook  for  the  Emperor  brightened  tem- 
porarily. He  was  seen  to  kiss  his  fourteen-year-old  son,  he  was 
also  observed  to  weep,  and  he  coined  the  phrase  "  baptism  of 
fire  '"  to  describe  the  Prince  Imperial's  exploit  of  sitting  on 
horseback  and  watching  the  French  troops  swarming  up  the 
heights  over  the  Saar.  But  from  and  after  this  skirmish,  in 
which  169  lives  were  lost,  the  fortune  of  v/ar  went  incessantly 
against  Napoleon  III. 

Coming  to  the  serious  business  of  the  campaign,  the  im- 
mediate objective  points  of  the  Prussian  operation  were  Stras- 
burg,  in  Alsace,  and  Metz,  about  ninety  miles  northwest  of 
Strasburg,  in  Lorraine.  The  battle  of  Worth,  in  which  Mac- 
Mahon  was  defeated  by  the  Crown  Prince  of  Prussia,  left  Stras- 
burg exposed  to  the  Prussian  attack,  and  on  the  fourteenth  of 
August,  eight  days  after  this  bloody  and  hard-fought  encounter, 
the  slow,  methodical,  and  terribly  effective  bombardment  of 
Strasburg  was  begun.  On  the  same  day  General  Von  Stein- 
metz  won  from  Bazaine  the  victory  of  Courcelles,  at  an  expense 


4i6  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

of  so  much  blood  that  the  historians  of  the  war  leave  it  doubtful 
whether  Steinmetz  received  from  his  King  on  this  occasion  an 
expression  of  thanks  or  a  reprimand.  Two  days  later  Prince 
Frederick  Charles  beat  the  same  Bazaine  at  Mars-la-Tour,  and 
after  another  interval  of  two  days  the  combined  armies  inflicted 
a  third  defeat  at  Gravelotte  and  Rezonville,  which  reduced  their 
unfortunate  adversary  to  the  necessity  of  retiring  on  Metz  and 
its  fortifications.  Three  days  after  Gravelotte,  Bazaine  was 
isolated  at  Metz.  The  first  chapter  of  the  war  had  been  closed 
in  thirty-seven  days. 

It  was  at  this  point  that  an  element  of  uncertainty  began  to 
enter  into  the  development  of  the  drama  on  the  German  side. 
The  German  armies  now  actually  on  French  soil  numbered  half 
a  million  men.  These  were  opposed  by  300,000  French  troops. 
Of  the  German  forces  about  150,000,  under  Prince  Frederick 
Charles,  were  engaged  in  keeping  Bazaine,  who  commanded 
about  an  equal  number,  shut  up  in  Metz.  With  the  exception 
of  scattered  bodies,  numbering  between  50,000  and  100,000, 
whose  duties  concerned  the  investment  of  Strasburg  and  the 
occupation  of  territory  already  conquered,  the  remainder  of  this 
huge  army  of  invasion  was  occupied  with  Marshal  MacMahon. 
The  element  of  uncertainty  consisted  in  the  movements  of  Mac- 
]\Iahon  and  the  army  of  150,000  which  he  had  collected  and 
reorganized  at  Chalons.  It  may  be  said  that  this  uncertainty 
was  shared  by  the  French  themselves;  MacMahon's  own  judg- 
ment would  have  prompted  him  to  march  northward  to  Me- 
zieres,  but  Count  Palikao,  the  Minister  of  War,  insisted  on  his 
making  every  effort  to  relieve  Bazaine.  In  vain  did  the  Em- 
peror, who  now  accompanied  MacMahon's  army,  remind  him 
that  a  piece  of  advice  from  the  ministry  of  war  was  not  equivalent 
to  an  order;  MacMahon,  for  some  reason  or  other — probably 
because  he  wished  to  reduce  his  own  responsibility  to  a  mini- 
mum— chose  the  course  suggested  to  him  from  Paris. 

MacMahon's  choice  once  made,  and  revealed  to  the  ever- 
vigilant  Uhlans  by  the  direction  of  his  march,  the  rest  was 
comparatively  easy  for  Moltke.  The  French  marshal  was, 
without  knowing  it,  being  surely  and  patiently  worked  into  a 
pocket  of  French  territory,  in  the  departm.ent  of  the  Ardennes, 
formed  by  the  Belgian  frontier.  On  the  French  side  there  was 
not,  nor  ever  had  been  in  this  war,  anything  like  the  systematic 
application  of  strategic  science  to  actuality  which  marked  the 


THE    BATTLE    OF    SEDAN  417 

movements  of  the  German  army  during  the  last  week  of  August. 
No  one  man — neither  the  Emperor,  nor  MacMahon,  nor  Le- 
boeuf,  the  nominal  Chief  of  Staff — wielded  the  unquestioned 
authority  over  the  French  soldiers  which  made  it  possible  for 
Moltke  to  move  his  corps  of  Germans  hither  and  thither  like 
chessmen.  Not  only  were  the  soldiers  of  France  demoralized 
by  their  earlier  reverses,  not  only  had  they  lost  confidence  in 
their  leaders,  but,  even  if  they  had  idolized  their  leader  and  felt 
the  most  fanatical  confidence  in  his  destiny,  they  had,  in  fact, 
no  such  one  leader:  they  were  being  victimized  by  a  politician 
in  Paris,  who  was  ignorant  of  both  the  general  principles  of 
war  and  the  particular  conditions;  an  Emperor  whose  wits  were 
clouded  by  both  physical  suffering  and  anxiety  for  the  future 
of  his  dynasty;  and  several  subordinate  generals,  each  of  whom 
was  convinced  that  his  leader  misunderstood  the  situation,  and 
that  in  his  own  plan  alone  was  safety  for  France.  And  so  the 
disasters  of  that  August  culminated  on  the  last  day  but  one  of 
the  month,  when  the  old  King  took  his  seat  on  the  height  of 
Sommauthe  and  watched  the  Crown  Prince  of  Saxony,  with 
three  army  corps  that  had  been  detached  from  Steinmetz,  driv- 
ing General  Failly's  troops  into  the  village  of  Beaumont  and 
out  again  on  the  other  side. 

The  next  day  was  the  eve  of  Sedan. 

It  has  been  necessary  to  sketch  the  outlines  of  the  campaign 
up  to  this  point,  because  Sedan,  decisive  as  it  was,  was  only  the 
crowning  of  a  series  of  lesser  strategic  triumphs,  all  wrought 
with  a  purposeful  regard  for  the  end  which  stamps  the  work  of 
Moltke  and  his  subordinates  as,  in  the  strictest  sense,  artistic. 
Men  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  whose  triumphs  in  war  have 
generally  been  won  more  by  the  stubborn  bravery — the  "  game- 
ness  "—of  their  rank  and  file  than  by  the  science  of  their  gen- 
erals, need  to  have  this  distinction  emphasized  for  them.  It 
was  not  that  German  valor  is  in  the  least  superior  to  French, 
or  how  could  the  fathers  of  these  same  Frenchmen  have  so 
crushed  the  fathers  of  these  same  Germans  as  they  did  at  Jena 
and  on  a  score  of  other  fields?  It  was  the  patient  desk-work 
of  Roon,  pursued  through  a  period  of  many  previous  years, 
the  perfect  discipline  of  an  army  drawn  from  half  a  dozen  dif- 
ferent German  States,  and  the  consummate  skill  of  Moltke, 
matured  through  half  a  century  of  patient  study  and,  when  oc- 
casion arose,  experiment. 
27 


4x8 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Close  to  the  Belgian  frontier  stands  the  ancient  French  strong- 
hold of  Sedan  on  the  Meuse.  Its  fortifications,  the  work  of 
Vauban  himself,  were  once  deemed  impregnable,  but  their 
strength  had  long  been  a  mere  memory,  in  the  presence  of 
modern  arms,  when,  on  August  31,  1870,  Marshal  MacMahon, 
with  the  Emperor  and  the  Army  of  Chalons,  realizing  the  failure 
of  his  movement  to  relieve  Metz,  made  them  the  base  and 
centre  of  his  last  desperate  stand.  What  MacMahon  intended 
to  do  next,  supposing  he  should  succeed  in  repulsing  the  Ger- 
mans, is  not  quite  clear.  He,  or  some  of  his  generals,  may  have 
hoped  for  an  orderly  retreat  across  the  Belgian  frontier,  but 
King  William  had  thoughtfully  anticipated  that  contingency, 
and,  while  orders  were  issued  to  the  German  commanders  to 
pursue  the  enemy,  if  necessary  into  Belgian  territory,  a  despatch 
to  the  Belgian  government  plainly  reminded  it  of  its  duties  as 
a  neutral  power,  and  demanded  that  all  French  troops  found 
within  its  territories  should  be  disarmed  by  its  representatives. 
But  it  seems  more  probable  that  MacMahon's  own  plan  was  to 
secure  a  retreat  to  Mezieres,  about  fifteen  miles  to  the  west  of 
Sedan. 

If  this  plan  of  retreat  on  Mezieres  had  been  carried  out,  the 
name  of  MacMahon  must  have  descended  to  posterity  as  that 
of  the  greatest  fighter  of  a  losing  battle  in  many  generations. 
It  is  hard  to  understand  how  the  gallant  hero  of  Magenta  can 
have  believed  such  a  movement  possible,  unless  we  take  into 
account  the  absurdly  inefiBcient  service  of  the  French  scouts, 
or  suppose  that  their  generals,  strong  in  their  national  ideas  of 
the  German  character,  altogether  failed  to  realize  the  rapidity 
of  German  military  movements  on  this  particular  occasion.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  way  from  Sedan  to  Mezieres  was  effectually 
barred  to  MacMahon's  army  on  the  day  immediately  following 
the  battle  of  Beaumont  and  preceding  that  of  Sedan. 

When  the  King  of  Prussia  arrived  that  evening  to  take  up 
his  quarters  for  the  night  at  the  chateau  of  Vendresse,  after  pre- 
siding at  a  council  of  war  at  Chemery,  the  left  wing  of  Crown 
Prince  Frederick's  army  was  already  within  easy  striking  dis- 
tance of  the  route  from  Sedan  to  Mezieres,  while  its  right  rested 
on  the  river  Meuse,  south  of  Sedan.  To  the  southeast  and 
east  was  the  army  of  the  Crown  Prince  of  Saxony  that  had 
won  at  Beaumont  the  day  before.  The  German  host  extended 
in  a  curve  about  Sedan,  occupying  nearly  five  out  of  eight 


X 


THE    BATTLE    OF    SEDAN  419 

points  of  the  compass.  Inside  this  crescent,  presenting  a  con- 
vex front  to  the  enemy,  was  MacMahon's  army  of  150,000  men, 
all  more  or  less  recently  defeated  elsewhere.  If  the  French  had 
been  less  numerous  than  they  were,  and,  consequently,  less 
crowded,  their  movements  might  have  been  more  effectual  and 
their  chances  better.  They  were  already  beginning  to  feel  the 
pressure  of  the  iron  cincture  that  Moltke  was  preparing  to  weld 
about  them. 

By  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  first  of  September  the 
Bavarian  army  corps  of  Prince  Frederick's  army  were  moving, 
under  Von  der  Tann,  northward  toward  the  railway  bridge  ever 
the  Meuse,  near  the  village  of  Bazeilles.  There  was  a  cold  mist 
hanging  over  the  river,  so  thick  that  the  soldiers  could  not 
see  many  paces  ahead.  General  Lebrun,  whose  command  held 
Bazeilles,  seems  to  have  been  more  alert  than  his  own  pickets, 
for  it  was  the  general  himself  who  gave  the  alarm,  rushing 
madly  from  his  quarters  and  seizing  upon  the  first  bugler  he 
happened  to  meet.  The  Bavarians  had  crossed  the  river  on 
pontoons  and  were  already  in  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  It 
was  too  late  for  the  French  to  do  anything  but  fight  a  furious 
house-to-house  combat,  and  that  they  did  with  all  the  ardor 
of  soldiers  and  all  the  rancor  of  men  who  felt  themselves  per- 
sonally aggrieved  by  the  intrusion  on  their  country  of  a  foe 
they  esteemed  brutal  and  barbarous. 

Meanwhile  the  Prussian  guards  in  the  Saxon  Prince's  com- 
mand were  storming  the  heights  of  Givonne,  a  position  about 
three  miles  from  Sedan  on  the  northeast,  and  other  troops  of 
the  same  army  were  occupying  La  Moncelle,  about  the  same 
distance  to  the  southeast.  As  they  came  they  brought  with 
them  their  artillery,  which  opened  a  converging  fire  with  such 
accuracy  as  to  compel  the  admiration  of  the  French  generals. 

At  seven  o'clock  the  well-known  campaign  carriage  of  the 
old  King,  with  its  stout,  serviceable  horses  and  harness,  and  its 
entire  lack  of  anything  like  ornament,  arrived  from  Vendresse 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  Frenois.  His  Majesty,  accompanied 
by  an  historic  group  of  warriors,  which  included  Phil  Sheridan, 
the  United  States  Commissioner  with  the  German  Army,  rode 
to  the  top  of  the  hill.  There,  to  the  southeast  of  the  doomed 
fortress,  almost  at  the  middle  point  of  the  crescent  of  fire  and 
steel  that  was  growing  about  it,  William  took  his  stand  with 
his  son  Frederick — the  darling  "  Unser  Fritz"  of  his  soldiers; 


420 


DECISIVE    BATTLES 


Bismarck,  smoking,  chatting  with  Sheridan,  and  from  time  to 
time  opening  a  despatch;  Moltke,  silent,  now  looking  through 
his  great  field-telescope  that  had  been  placed  there  on  a  tripod, 
now  musing,  with  an  elbow  supported  in  the  palm  of  his  left 
hand,  while  the  right  stroked  his  beardless,  wrinkled  cheek.  The 
brilliant  assemblage  of  princes  and  generals  had  not  been  long 
at  their  post  of  observation  before  the  early  morning  mists  rolled 
away,  revealing  in  all  its  natural  loveliness  the  plateau  to  the 
north,  stretching  from  Sedan  to  Floing,  the  wood  of  Garenne, 
the  river,  Bazeilles,  La  Moncelle  stretching  away  to  the  east; 
again,  to  their  left,  the  river,  with  the  village  of  Donchery,  more 
undulating  lands  and  more  woods,  and,  as  a  distant  background, 
far  beyond  the  centre  of  this  scene,  to  the  north,  stretched  the 
forest  of  Ardennes,  covering  the  Belgian  frontier. 

But  everywhere  were  long  columns  of  bayonets  and  long 
processions  of  artillery,  fire,  smoke,  and  turmoil.  It  might  look, 
to  the  uninstructed,  like  confusion;  to  Moltke  it  was  a  master- 
piece of  orderly  arrangement.  The  terrific  fire  over  to  the  east, 
about  Bazeilles,  marked  a  memorable  struggle.  Not  content 
with  the  defence  of  their  homes  made  by  the  Emperor's  soldiers, 
women,  children,  priests,  and  all  who  could  stir  hand  and  foot, 
were  joining  in  every  possible  method  of  attack  upon  the  in- 
vaders. Every  little  house  and  stable  having  become  a  fortress 
from  which  they  were  being  assailed,  the  Bavarian  troops  were 
at  last  obliged  to  set  fire  to  the  village,  and  the  struggle  at  that 
point  then  shifted  to  Balan,  about  half  the  distance  to  the  walls 
of  Sedan.  To  the  east  of  Sedan,  all  along  the  course  of  the 
little  Givonne  stream,  which  joins  the  Meuse  just  below  Ba- 
zeilles, the  German  artillery  was  pitilessly,  indefatigably  pump- 
ing its  cascade  of  iron  into  the  old  fortress.  Away  to  the  north- 
east, beyond  the  plateau,  beyond  the  wood  of  Garenne,  Moltke's 
telescope  might  very  well  have  shown  him  squadrons  of  horse- 
men entering  the  frin<^e  of  the  Ardennes  forest;  the  rays  of  the 
sun  at  about  ten  o'clock  no  doubt  flashed  from  their  accoutre- 
ments straight  into  the  object-glass  of  the  big  telescope.  These 
horsemen  were  the  Hussars  of  the  Guard  sent  by  the  Crown 
Prince  of  Saxony  to  feel  for  the  extreme  left  of  the  other  Crown 
Prince's  army,  which  had  all  this  time  been  curling  itself  round 
the  west  of  the  French  position  and  would  soon  be  due  to  arrive 
somewhere  about  St.  Menges. 

The  soldiers  of  "  Unser  Fritz  "  were  coming.     Before  noon 


THE   BATTLE    OF    SEDAN  421 

the  Fifth  and  Eleventh  Army  Corps,  keeping  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  Meiise,  which  river  they  had  crossed  at  Donchery, 
had  marched  round  the  sharp  bend  to  the  northwest  of  Sedan 
and  were  approaching  St.  Menges.  Near  Illy,  to  the  east  of 
St.  Menges,  and  between  the  former  village  and  Sedan,  Gen- 
eral Margueritte,  "  the  star  of  his  arm,"  was  posted  with  a  large 
body  of  cavalry.  He  saw,  from  the  heights  of  the  Calvaire 
d'llly,  the  advance  of  the  Eleventh  Prussian  Army  Corps,  as 
its  artillery,  with  infantry  supports,  deployed  below  him,  on  his 
northwest,  and  sent  General  Gallifet  with  three  regiments  and 
two  squadrons  against  them.  But  Gallifet's  men  and  horses  were 
mowed  down  by  the  needle-gun.  Later,  Margueritte  himself 
descended,  with  all  his  force,  from  the  Calvaire  and  made  sev- 
eral furious  charges  on  the  two  left-wing  corps  of  Prince  Fred- 
erick's army.  It  was  all  in  vain.  Three  French  generals,  in- 
cluding Margueritte  himself,  were  killed,  and  a  fourth  was 
wounded.  "  Yet  it  is  not  surprising,"  says  an  English  military 
critic,  "  that  these  daring  charges  excited  the  ungrudging  ad- 
miration and  deep  sympathy  of  friend  and  foe." 

The  memorable,  but  ineffectual,  exploits  of  Margueritte's 
command  and  the  fighting  about  St.  Menges  marked  the  de- 
cisive moment  of  the  day.  It  must  have  been  shortly  before 
noon.  Phil  Sheridan,  who  himself  had  had  some  experience  of 
cavalry  charges,  watched  it  all  from  the  hilltop  of  Fienois,  and 
then  closed  his  field-glasses  with  a  snap,  remarking,  "  It  is  all 
over  with  the  French  now!  "  Upon  which  Moltke  and  others 
shook  hands  with  him,  saying  little,  but  feeling  much. 

It  was,  indeed,  all  over  with  the  French.  For  now  the  pad- 
lock had  snapped  on  them.  Between  Illy  and  a  projecting 
section  of  the  Ardennes  forest  that  skirts  the  Givonne  to  the 
east — that  patch  of  forest  into  which  the  Saxon  Prince's  Prus- 
sian cavalry  had  disappeared  some  time  earlier — the  armies  of 
the  two  Crown  Princes  joined  hands.  And  so  the  ring  was 
closed  and  welded.  Inside  it  there  was  no  French  force  that 
could  hope  to  break  through  it  anywhere,  nor  any  French 
leader  who  could  have  shown  them  how  to  set  about  such  an 
enterprise.  In  all  its  sixteen  miles  of  circumference  there  were 
close  upon  200,000  soldiers  of  all  arms,  tired,  it  is  true,  but 
flushed  with  victory  upon  victory,  and  brimful  of  confidence 
in  the  generals  who  led  them.  And  round  about  the  inner  rim 
of  the  circle  were  426  pieces  of  artillery  concentrating  their  fire 


422  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

wherever  Moltke  desired  it  to  be  concentrated.  "  Even  the 
high-tempered,  if  imperious,  De  Wimpffen,"  says  the  military 
critic  before  quoted,  "  was  obHged  to  admit  that  through  this 
dread  circle  neither  for  him  nor  any  other  was  there  an  outlet." 

De  Wimpffen  was  the  general  to  whom  it  fell  to  surrender 
Sedan.  Early  in  the  day,  when  the  Emperor  had  ridden  out  to 
be  present  at  the  fighting  in  Bazeilles,  he  had  met  MacMahon, 
who  was  being  carried,  wounded,  to  the  rear.  General  Ducrot 
succeeded  MacMahon,  as  both  MacMahon  and  he  supposed; 
but  suddenly,  De  Wimpffen,  who  had  arrived  two  days  before 
from  Algeria,  produced  a  document  from  the  Minister  of  War 
in  Paris  appointing  him  to  the  command.  It  was  all  perfectly 
in  accord  with  the  traditions  of  opera  hoiiife,  and  one  cannot 
but  wonder  whether  it  reminded  the  Emperor  of  his  favorite 
"  Grande  Duchesse  de  Gerolstein,"  as  he  stood  by  and  watched 
the  absurd  proceedings,  in  which  he  seems  to  have  had  no  power 
to  interfere. 

However,  about  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  unfortunate 
nephew  of  the  great  Napoleon  did  assert  himself  to  the  extent 
of  ordering  a  white  flag  to  be  hoisted.  To  do  him  justice,  this 
was  characteristic  of  the  man  who,  at  Solferino,  had  declared 
that  he  would  never  again  lead  armies  to  the  slaughter. 
Enough  blood  had  been  shed,  the  Emperor  now  declared.  De 
Wimpffen,  on  the  contrary,  was  very  angry  when  he  saw  the 
flag  of  truce,  and  ordered  it  to  be  pulled  down.  He  was  going 
to  cut  his  way  out  to  the  eastward,  and,  taking  the  Emperor 
with  him,  retire  upon  Carignan  with  15,000  men.  Ducrot  ridi- 
culed the  idea  and  proposed  to  retire,  with  the  Emperor,  on 
Mezieres.  The  Emperor  himself  was  doubtful  as  to  whether  a 
sufficient  number  of  soldiers  could  be  induced  to  make  the  sor- 
tie, demoralized  as  the  men  were ;  De  Wimpffen  provided  against 
this  difficulty  by  spreading  a  report  that  Bazaine  had  cut  his 
way  out  of  Metz  and  was  ready  to  join  hands  with  the  Army 
of  Chalons. 

All  these  schemes  were  cut  short  by  the  Emperor's  sending 
his  aide-de-camp,  Count  Reille,  with  the  historic  note  to  the 
King  of  Prussia:  "  As  I  have  not  been  able  to  die  in  the  midst 
of  my  troops,  it  only  remains  for  me  to  resign  my  sword  into 
the  hands  of  Your  Majesty." 

The  same  idea — that  it  was  time  to  end  the  useless  blood- 


THE    BATTLE    OF    SEDAN 


423 


shed — seems  to  have  forced  itself  upon  Napoleon  and  upon 
William  at  about  the  same  time.  Count  Reille,  on  his  way  out  of 
Sedan,  met  a  German  officer  coming  in  from  the  King  with  a 
proposal  for  surrender.  It  was  this  German  officer — Colonel 
von  Bronsart,  of  the  King's  staff — who  first  brought  to  the  vic- 
torious army  the  intelligence  that  the  Emperor  himself  was  in 
Sedan. 

Thus  the  Emperor  surrendered  all  that  he  could  command — 
his  own  sword — before  the  general  who  was  supposed  to  be  his 
general  made  up  his  mind  to  surrender  the  army.  But  that, 
too,  came  at  last.  An  armistice  was  agreed  upon,  to  continue 
until  four  o'clock  of  the  following  morning.  At  midnight,  be- 
tween the  first  and  second  of  September,  De  WimpfTen  was  in 
conference  with  Moltke  at  Donchery,  doing  his  best  to  mod- 
erate the  hardships  of  the  terms — unconditional  surrender — 
imposed  by  the  victor.  The  conference  was  broken  up  without 
any  definite  arrangement  having  been  reached,  but  at  Bis- 
marck's instance  the  armistice  was  extended  to  nine  in  the 
morning. 

.  When  that  hour  arrived  the  inevitable  surrender  was  made. 
The  Emperor  was  already  a  prisoner  of  war  in  the  weaver's 
cottage  at  Donchery.  For  the  rest,  the  wounded  Marshal  Mac- 
Mahon,  thirty-nine  French  generals,  and  85,000  other  officers 
and  men  were  surrendered  on  that  day,  besides  14,000  wounded. 
Some  14,500  men  had  managed  to  escape  at  their  own  risks 
across  the  Belgian  frontier,  taking  with  them  12,000  horses. 
The  material  of  war  surrendered  comprised  150  siege  guns,  330 
field  guns,  70  mitrailleuses,  and  10,000  horses.  On  the  side  of 
the  vanquished  the  number  of  killed  amounted,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  to  only  3,000,  while  the  German  loss  in  killed  and 
wounded  was  8,924. 

And  so  ended  the  second  Napoleonic  empire.  Two  days 
after  the  capitulation  of  Sedan  came  the  revolution  of  1870  in 
Paris;  the  Empress  fled,  the  Provisional  Government,  which 
grew  into  the  present  republic  of  France,  came  into  being.  The 
reahty  of  a  united  Germany  so  strong  as  to  be  practically  un- 
assailable by  a  restless  and  glory-loving  power  on  its  western 
frontier  was  now  demonstrated  to  the  world,  although  King 
William  of  Prussia  did  not  become  William  I.,  German  Em- 
peror, until  four  months  later. 


424  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

But,  after  all,  the  battle  of  Sedan  just  as  clearly  demonstrated 
to  the  world  one  more  thing  which  the  world,  thanks  to  the 
antics  of  French  rulers,  has  been  more  than  once  disposed  to 
forget — the  indomitable  courage  of  the  French  people;  but  for 
which  national  trait,  in  face  of  the  incapacity,  the  corruption, 
the  misgovernment  that  brought  them  to  their  military  down- 
fall in  1870,  there  could  have  been  no  battle  of  Sedan. 


CHAPTER   XVIIl. 

MANILA  AND  SANTIAGO,  A.D.    1898. 

IT  is  too  early  to  dogmatize  as  to  what  was  the  real  cause  of 
the  war  between  the  United  States  and  Spain.  Congress,  in 
its  joint  resolutions  of  April  13,  1898,  declared  that  "  the  ab- 
horrent conditions  which  have  existed  for  more  than  three  years 
in  the  island  of  Cuba,  so  near  our  own  borders,  have  shocked  the 
moral  sense  of  the  people  of  the  United  States,"  and,  further, 
"  that  the  people  of  the  island  of  Cuba  are,  and  of  right  ought 
to  be,  free  and  independent  "  ;  and  it  was  virtually  by  these 
resolutions  that  war  was  declared,  ostensibly  "  to  carry  these 
resolutions  into  efifect."  Another,  and  unofficial,  view  of  the 
case  has  it  that  there  would  have  been  no  war  if  the  United 
States  battle-ship  Maine  had  not  been  blown  up  at  her  moor- 
ings in  Havana  harbor  on  the  night  of  February  15,  1898. 

If  the  cabinet  of  Spain  had  seen  fit  to  surrender  Cuba  when 
they  were  asked  to,  Spain  might  to-day  have  still  been  mis- 
governing Porto  Rico  and  struggling  with  the  insurgents  of  the 
Philippines.  The  collapse  of  the  whole  rotten  fabric  of  her 
colonial  empire  may  be  said  to  have  been  due  to  an  accident  of 
war.  That  accident  was  the  destruction  of  Montojo's  squadron 
in  Manila  Bay  on  the  first  of  May,  1898. 

Not  that  the  destruction  of  the  fleet  was  an  accident;  on  the 
contrary,  considering  that  naval  warfare  is  carried  on  in  these 
days  with  long-range  artillery  and  ships  propelled  by  steam- 
engines,  that  issue  was  inevitable ;  but  if  Montojo  had  preferred 
to  meet  his  fate  upon  the  high  seas,  it  is  possible  that  Dewey 
might  not  have  chosen  to  meddle  with  the  Philippines.  The 
movement  of  the  American  squadron  in  Asiatic  waters,  under 
Commodore  Dewey,  was,  as  the  people  of  the  United  States 
understood  it,  mainly  defensive  in  scope.  It  was  known  that  a 
Spanish  squadron  w^as  afloat  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Philippines,  and,  with  American  merchant  vessels  to  b«? 

425 


426  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

protected  between  San  Francisco  and  the  Pacific  islands,  and, 
still  more,  some  3,000  miles  of  open  coast  line  on  the  Pacific 
Ocean,  the  danger  of  allowing  that  squadron  to  remain  afloat, 
and  the  disturbance  to  American  commerce  that  must  result 
from  that  danger,  could  not  be  neglected. 

The  war  having  formally  begun  on  the  twenty-first  of  April, 
Commodore  Dewey  was  officially  apprised  of  that  fact  by  his 
government  at  Mirs  Bay,  on  the  Chinese  coast,  four  days  later. 
Having  previously  learned,  at  Hong  Kong,  that  war  was  im- 
minent, the  American  commander  there  assembled  his  ships 
and  began  making  preparations  for  active  service,  but  these 
preparations  were  interrupted  by  the  neutrality  proclamation  of 
the  British  governor,  which  obliged  the  American  squadron  to 
complete  preparations  at  the  Chinese  port. 

Leaving  Mirs  Bay  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  April,  the  squad- 
ron, consisted  of  the  protected  cruisers  Olympia  (bearing  the 
Commodore's  pennant),  Boston,  Baltimore,  and  Raleigh,  and 
the  gunboats  Concord  and  Petrel.  The  transport  McCuUoch, 
with  supplies,  accompanied  the  fighting  ships.  By  sunset  of 
April  30th  the  squadron  was  off  Subig  Bay,  an  opening  on  the 
coast  of  Luzon,  about  sixty  miles  to  the  northeast  of  the  mouth 
of  Manila  Bay.  There  Dewey  summoned  his  subordinate  com- 
manders on  board  the  Olympia  and  gave  them  their  final  in- 
structions. 

What  he  was  going  to  do  he  had  fully  made  up  his  mind. 
His  business  was  to  find  and  destroy  the  Spanish  squadron;  if 
the  commanding  officer  of  that  squadron  chose  to  take  his  sta- 
tion in  Manila  Bay — and  Dewey  knew  that  he  had — that  was 
not  Dewey's  business:  it  was  only  so  much  the  worse  for  Manila. 
A  naval  officer  on  active  service  cannot  be  expected  to  concern 
himself  with  problems  of  international  politics  belonging  to  the 
remote  future. 

If  the  enemy  had  been  British,  or  German,  or  French,  or  if 
by  any  chance  the  "  something  Spanish  about  a  Spaniard  that 
always  makes  him  act  in  a  Spanish  manner  "  had  happened  to 
be  dormant  on  this  occasion,  or  if  Dewey  had  not  been  excep- 
tionally well  informed  as  to  the  ways  of  his  adversary — in  any 
of  these  cases  the  plan  deliberately  made  for  the  next  day's  battle 
would  have  been  criminally  reckless.  The  enemy  knew  of  his 
coming  and  was  posted  in  a  land-locked  harbor,  the  entrance 
to  which  was  defended  by  forts  on  either  side  as  well  as  on  the 


MANILA    AND    SANTIAGO  427 

island — Corregidor — which  divides  the  entrance  into  two 
channels.  It  was  Dewey's  intention  to  run  the  risk  of  beings 
knocked  to  pieces  by  the  guns  oi  the  channel  forts  or  of  being 
blown  to  pieces  by  torpedoes  in  the  channel,  and  then  to  attack 
a  squadron  little  less  powerful — on  paper — than  his  own  under 
the  guns  of  the  enemy's  shore  batteries.  But  the  American 
commodore  knew  that  those  guns  were  manned  by  Spaniards, 
and  those  torpedoes  laid  and  controlled  by  persons  of  the 
same  comically  inefficient  nationality.  They  had  plenty  of 
time  to  prepare  everything  against  his  arrival,  but,  somehow, 
they  thought  he  would  come  "  manana,"  which  means  "  to- 
morrow " — which  beHef  was  just  what  Dewey  counted  upon. 
And  even  so,  taking  all  this  into  account,  it  is  difficult  to 
refrain  from  halting  in  the  midst  of  the  narrative  to  admire 
the  superb  audacity  of  the  exploit. 

At  about  ten  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  thirtieth,  the  Olympia 
was  ofif  Mariveles  Point,  which  forms  the  northern  side  of  the 
opening.  All  hands  on  board  the  American  warships  were  on 
the  alert,  for  they  knew  that  an  enemy's  harbor  was  to  be  en- 
tered that  night.  On  they  went,  slowly,  in  the  stifling  heat  of  a 
tropical  night,  under  the  pale  light  of  a  moon  in  its  first  quarter. 
Presently  a  light  that  was  not  of  the  moon  flashed  on  Mariveles 
Point,  and  soon  a  rocket  rose  from  Corregidor  to  answer  the 
signal.  Still  they  steamed  on,  southward,  past  Corregidor.  The 
batteries  on  Corregidor  and  at  El  Fraile,  on  the  southern  side 
of  the  southern  opening,  were  awake,  and  several  6-incli  and 
8-inch  shells  flew  over  the  ships,  aimed  pretty  much  at  random, 
for  no  lights  were  visible  in  the  squadron.  Still  the  Americans 
kept  on,  steaming  "  line  ahead,"  with  Dewey's  flagship  in  the 
lead,  and  the  McCulloch  sheltering  under  her  port  beam — 
steaming  into  what  should  have  been,  by  all  rules  of  war,  cer- 
tain destruction,  and  answering  nothing  to  the  Spaniards'  reck- 
less, drowsy  shots. 

According  to  programme,  the  men  would  not  be  wanted  at 
fighting  quarters  for  some  hours  yet,  but  it  was  wise  to  have 
them  all  ready.  None  slept  in  hammocks  or  bunks  that  night. 
Half  the  men  in  the  turrets  and  broadsides  were  allowed  to 
sleep  by  their  guns,  while  the  other  half  watched.  It  was  ner- 
vous work,  whether  watching  or  sleeping,  for  no  one  could  tell 
when  a  mine  might  split  the  ship  in  two.  Something — probably 
a  shower  of  sparks  from  the  soft  coal  in  the  furnaces  of  the 


428  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

McCulloch — had  warned  the  Spaniards;  that  was  all  that  the 
men  knew  as  they  steamed  the  twenty  odd  miles  that  brought 
them  abreast  of  the  Cavite  batteries,  south  of  the  city. 

It  was  a  few  minutes  after  five  o'clock  on  that  Sunday  morn- 
ing when  the  Spanish  batteries  opened  fire,  and  presently  two 
mines  went  off  some  distance  ahead  of  the  Olympia.  Still  the 
American  ships  took  no  notice  of  the  enemy.  On  went  the 
long  procession,  slowly,  as  the  sun  rose — Olympia,  Boston, 
Concord,  Baltimore,  Raleigh,  Petrel — giving  the  enemy  a  good 
view  of  them,  and  displaying  an  exasperating  contempt  of  both 
his  marksmanship  and  his  torpedo  practice.  Then  they  wheeled 
and  steamed  in  the  opposite  direction.  For  thirty  minutes 
Dewey  kept  this  up,  getting  into  better  range  and  enormously 
improving  the  morale  of  his  men,  even  if  the  ordeal  was  a  little 
severe. 

At  last  the  8-inch  guns  in  the  forward  turret  of  the  Olympia 
let  go,  and  the  battle  had  begun  on  both  sides.  In  a  short  time 
the  Americans  were  engaging,  besides  the  shore  batteries  of 
Cavite,  the  cruisers  Reina  Cristina  (Montojo's  flagship),  Cas- 
tilla,  Ulloa,  Isla  de  Cuba,  and  Lezo,  besides  several  gunboats. 
Dewey's  squadron  continued  its  tactics  of  steaming  in  ellipses, 
getting  nearer  in  at  each  turn,  until  the  range  was  about  2,500 
yards.  This  was  kept  up  for  two  hours,  until  at  half-past  seven 
the  signal  was  made  to  sheer  ofif  to  the  farther  side  of  the  bay 
"  for  rest  and  breakfast." 

The  men  did  not  want  any  breakfast;  they  did  not  want  to  be 
interrupted  in  their  work.  Except  for  a  trifling  blaze  on  board 
the  Boston,  nobody  had  been  hurt  on  the  American  side.  But 
— as  it  has  since  been  said  by  an  eye-witness  who  was  on  board 
Dewey's  ship  and  at  his  side — the  Commodore  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  result  of  the  two  hours'  pounding.  But,  whether  satis- 
fied or  not,  all  hands  took  a  rest  and  a  cup  of  hot  coffee,  and 
then  went  back  to  work. 

And  by  that  time  the  American  gunners  began  to  see  the 
fruits  of  their  labors.  Flames  and  smoke  were  pouring  from 
the  hull  of  the  Castilla.  The  Reina  Cristina,  trying,  as  was  then 
supposed,  to  ram  an  American  ship,  received,  as  she  turned, 
a  shell  which  raked  her  fearfully  from  stern  to  stem;  and  that 
shell  ended  her  career.  It  afterwards  appeared  that  the  unfor- 
tunate Spaniard  had  not  attempted  to  ram  at  all;  her  steering 
gear  was  deranged,  that  was  all,  and  her  approach  to  such  close 


MANILA   AND    SANTIAGO 


429 


quarters  was  all  a  mistake.  But  if  his  ship  was  sinking  and  in 
flames,  that  did  not  end  Admiral  Montojo's  fighting;  he  simply 
got  into  an  open  boat  and  had  himself  rowed  to  the  Ulloa,  on 
which  -vessel  he  hoisted,  his  flag.  And,  in  fact,  Montojo's  flag 
was  never  hauled  down — it  went  down  with  the  Ulloa. 

This  stubborn  courage  was  the  characteristic  of  all  the  fight- 
ing on  the  Spanish  side  that  day.  If  they  had  only  had  better 
guns — and  better  gunners — the  Philippines  might  not  now  be  a 
problem  for  American  statesmen.  As  it  was,  the  whole  of  their 
fleet  went  down  fighting.  Dewey's  offlcial  report  of  that  day 
says  nothing  of  any  captures,  only,  "  destroyed  the  following 
vessels:  Reina  Cristina,  Don  Antonio  de  Ulloa,  Isla  de  Luzon, 
Isla  de  Cuba,  General  Lezo,  Marques  del  Duero,  El  Cano, 
Velazco,  transport  Isla  de  Mindanao,  and  one  other  vessel,  and 
water  battery  at  Cavite." 

"  Squadron  is  uninjured,"  the  report  continues.  At  a  little 
before  noon,  when  there  was  nothing  left  visible  for  the  Ameri- 
cans to  fight,  their  captains  came  one  after  another  on  board 
the  Olympia  and  reported  "  no  casualties  " — all  except  Dyer, 
of  the  Baltimore,  who  had  to  report  eight  wounded  by  the  ex- 
plosion of  several  3-inch  shells,  the  property  of  the  United 
States,  which,  lying  on  the  deck  awaiting  their  turn,  had  been 
set  ofif  by  a  larger  Spanish  shell. 

But  the  Spaniards  lost  that  day  412  men,  killed  and  wounded. 
They  also  lost,  though  they  did  not  then  realize  it,  the  control 
of  an  archipelago  of  thirteen  large  islands  and  innumerable 
smaller  ones,  with  an  area  of  over  114,000  square  miles  and  a 
population  of  over  8,000,000. 

The  battle  was  decisive  as  to  the  Pacific,  but  Santiago  \vas 
needed  to  end  Spain's  colonial  ownership  forever.  Indeed,  it 
would  have  been  a  ridiculous  irony  of  fate  if  the  war  had  issued 
in  the  American  acquisition  of  an  island  colony  off  the  coast 
of  China,  and  left  the  people  of  Cuba,  who  "  are,  and  of  right 
ought  to  be,  free  and  independent,"  still  dominated  by  the 
Spaniard.  When  the  American  people,  after  reading  about  it 
in  the  papers  for  a  whole  week,  from  the  8th  to  the  15th  of  May, 
began  to  realize  the  truth  of  the  reported  naval  victory  in  Manila 
Bay,  Sampson's  squadron  was  blockading  the  north  coast  of 
Cuba,  as  it  had  been  since  the  last  week  in  April,  but  the  Span- 
ish garrison  of  the  island  was  doing  fairly  well  for  provisions, 
while  both  the  insurgents  in  the  field  and  the  "  reconcentrados  " 


43°  DECISIVE   BATTLES 

— non-combatant  peasants  driven  from  their  homes  by  the 
Spanish  troops — were  still  starving.  Then,  on  May  the  nth, 
it  was  reported  that  the  Spanish  Admiral  Cervera,  with  a  squad- 
ron far  more  powerful  than  that  which  had  been  destroyed  at 
Manila,  had  appeared  off  the  coast  of  Martinique.  For  three 
weeks  after  that  date  the  country  and  its  rulers  were  kept  guess- 
ing as  to  Cervera's  whereabouts.  No  one  knew  when  the  most 
formidable  of  Spain's  warships  might  appear  at  any  point  on 
the  Atlantic  or  Gulf  coast. 

Meanwhile  an  army  of  70,000  men  was  being  rapidly  drilled 
and  concentrated  at  Tampa,  Florida,  to  be  used  for  the  invasion 
of  Cuba  as  soon  as  the  unhealthful  hot  weather  should  end.  This 
would  not  have  been  for  at  least  four  months  longer.  But  the 
discovery  that  Cervera's  fleet  was  safely  lodged  in  the  land- 
locked harbor  of  Santiago  changed  all  this. 
,  Sampson  and  Schley  turned  their  attention  to  "  bottling  up 
'Cervera,"  and  would,  if  the  entrance  to  Santiago  harbor  had 
been  wider  and  less  tortuous,  have  rivalled  Dewey's  exploit. 
The  work  of  keeping  watch  over  the  opening  of  the  harbor 
was  costly  and  trying  to  those  engaged  in  it,  and  the  people 
clamored  for  action ;  therefore,  some  way  must  be  found  to  de- 
stroy Cervera's  fleet,  for,  in  spite  of  Naval  Constructor  Hob- 
son's  brilliant  achievement  of  sinking  the  collier  Merrimac  in 
the  entrance  on  June  the  30th,  it  was  not  at  all  certain  that  the 
Spanish  ships  could  not  get  out  if  they  wished  to.  Until  the 
city  of  Santiago  should  be  in  the  power  of  the  Americans,  it 
was  felt,  Cervera  was  safe  and  formidable. 

On  these  accounts  General  Shaffer  was  ordered  to  effect  a 
landing  near  Santiago  as  soon  as  possible.  After  one  false  start, 
his  corps,  comprising  about  15,000  men,  sailed  from  Tampa  on 
the  14th  of  June,  on  the  20th  touched  at  Guantanamo,  where  a 
body  of  marines  from  the  blockading  squadron  had  already  es- 
tablished a  camp,  and  on  the  22d  arrived  at  Daiquiri,  a  landing 
place  east  of  Santiago,  and  well  under  the  guns  of  the  American 
squadron.  By  the  evening  of  the  24th  all  the  American  troops, 
with  their  war  material,  had  been  landed,  half  starved,  for  the 
most  part,  but  otherwise  in  satisfactory  condition.  The  resist- 
ance of  the  Spaniards  at  this  point  was  not  worth  mentioning, 
their  attempts  to  cripple  the  railroad  which  there  follows  the 
coast  line  only  made  the  Americans  laugh,  and  Shafter's  army 
was  soon  in  camp  at  Siboney. 


MANILA  AND   SANTIAGO  431 

The  object  of  the  invading  army  was  to  reach  Santiago  by 
the  eastern  shore  of  the  harbor,  working  up  from  the  southeast 
of  the  city  to  its  northeast.  Already,  in  the  early  morning  of 
the  24th,  Young's  brigade  of  Wheeler's  division  had  pushed 
on  to  Las  Guasimas,  a  strong  position  in  this  line,  and,  although 
_  with  the  loss  of  68  killed  and  wounded  out  of  a  force  of  964, 
succeeded  in  holding  the  ground  they  had  gained.  This  action 
is  memorable  as  the  first  in  which  the  Rough  Riders,  or  First 
United  States  Volunteer  Cavalry,  took  part.  They  had  been 
obliged  to  come  from  Tampa  without  their  horses,  and  through- 
out the  campaign  did  splendid  service  as  light  infantry. 

For  six  days  following,  Shafter  was  concentrating  his  men 
and  making  the  best  preparations  he  could  for  an  attack  on  in- 
trenched positions,  with  very  little  artillery  to  support  him. 
Sixteen  light  guns  were  all  the  equipment  in  this  arm  of  the 
whole  expedition,  and  for  battering  purposes  the  land  forces 
would  have  to  rely  upon  the  efforts  at  long  range  of  the  block- 
ading squadron  outside. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  ist  of  July,  Lawton's  division, 
with  Capron's  four  field  guns,  moved  northward  on  El  Caney, 
a  village  to  the  northeast  of  Santiago.  At  six  in  the  morning 
Capron's  battery  fired  the  first  gun  of  what  was  to  be  known 
as  the  Battle  of  El  Caney.  To  the  right,  Kent's  division,  with 
Grimes'  battery  and  Wheeler's  cavalry,  moved  against  the  San 
Juan  hill,  a  position  about  three  miles  from  El  Caney,  defended 
by  block-houses. 

After  eight  o'clock  the  whole  of  the  American  front  was  en- 
gaged. On  the  one  side,  the  advantage  of  numbers  was  with 
the  invaders,  although  it  was  feared  that  General  Pando,  with 
8,000  reinforcements,  might  at  any  moment  enter  the  city;  the 
defenders  were  also  weakened  by  bad  nourishment  and  by  dis- 
ease. But  the  advantage  of  position  was  all  on  the  Spanish 
side.  The  American  troops  included  numbers  of  recently  en- 
rolled volunteers,  and  their  ostensible  allies.  General  Garcia's 
Cuban  insurgents,  were  far  more  intent  upon  drawing  Ameri- 
can rations,  with  or  without  the  formality  of  official  sanction, 
than  upon  engaging  the  enemy  in  the  open — a  method  of  war- 
fare to  which  they  had  never  been  accustomed. 

It  was  a  "  soldiers'  battle  "  from  the  first.  If  the  resistance 
of  the  Spaniards,  behind  their  intrenchments  and  barbed-wire 


432  DECISIVE    BATTLES 

fences,  was  desperate,  the  headlong  dash  of  the  Americans  was 
a  matter  of  astonishment  to  the  foreign  military  attaches  who 
accompanied  the  army.  Through  the  tropical  underbrush  and 
over  the  open  glades  the  Americans  swarmed  in  open  order, 
firing  as  they  went,  riddled  by  the  bullets  of  the  defenders  in 
position  before  them,  and  picked  off  by  sharpshooters  posted 
in  the  thick  foliage  of  mango-trees  on  all  sides.  Roosevelt,  who 
a  few  weeks  before  had  been  an  Assistant  Secretary  of  the  Navy, 
was  galloping  ahead  of  his  dismounted  Rough  Riders,  revolver 
in  hand,  cheering  them  on.  Wheeler,  an  ex-Confederate  cav- 
alry leader  of  international  renown,  had  rebelled  against  his 
doctor  and  left  his  sick-cot  to  help  on  the  triumph  of  the  Stars 
and  Stripes.  So  towards  El  Caney  and  towards  San  Juan  the 
tide  of  American  rough-and-ready  valor  swept  on,  and,  when 
it  reached  the  vaunted  barbed-wire  defences,  details  of  men 
provided  with  wire-nippers  ran  to  the  front,  in  spite  of  bullets, 
and  clipped  the  metal  lines.  By  two  o'clock  that  afternoon  the 
battle  was  over  and  the  coveted  positions  in  the  hands  of  the 
invaders. 

The  Americans  had  lost  heavily,  it  is  true,  and  they  had  the 
mortification  of  finding  that  the  shining  hours  of  that  memora- 
ble morning  had  been  improved  by  their  allies  to  loot  their 
deserted  camp.  But  in  spite  of  short  rations  and  the  discom- 
forts of  tropical  rainstorms,  without  proper  protection  against 
the  elements,  they  held  their  ground  through  that  night  and  the 
following  day — Saturday — and  night.  And  the  next  day  was 
Sunday,  July  the  3d — the  eve  of  Independence  day. 

During  the  two  days'  fighting  the  squadron  outside  the  har- 
bor had  helped  things  along  by  an  enfilading  fire  against  the 
forts  at  the  harbor's  mouth.  Cervera's  ships,  on  the  Spanish 
side,  had  contributed  powerfully  to  the  defence.  But  by  Sun- 
day morning  it  was  evident  that  the  city  must  surrender,  ham- 
pered as  Toral,  the  Spanish  commandant,  was  by  the  presence 
of  a  starving  population  and  the  imminent  danger  of  pestilence 
arising  from  the  putrefaction  of  unburied  bodies  of  men  and 
animals,  as  well  as  the  accumulations  of  filth  at  all  times  usual 
in  Spanish  cities.  Cervera,  therefore,  made  up  his  mind  not 
to  be  caught  "  like  a  rat  in  a  trap."  He  knew  that  Hobson's 
gallant  exploit  had  been  practically  ineffectual. 

Accordingly,  at  about  half-past  nine  on  the  morning  of  Sun- 


MANILA   AND    SANTIAGO 


433 


day,  July  the  3d,  the  lookouts  on  several  of  the  American  ships 
reported  the  enemy  coming  out.  The  Spanish  ships  were  not 
yet  in  sight,  but  their  smoke  was  plainly  visible  rising  above 
the  hills  at  the  entrance  to  the  harbor.  Sampson  himself  was 
absent,  with  the  New  York,  his  flagship,  having  gone  to 
Siboney  to  confer  with  General  Shafter.  In  his  absence  the 
command  devolved  upon  Commodore  Schley.  In  a  moment 
every  gun  in  the  squadron,  that  formed  a  half-moon  about 
the  opening  of  Santiago  harbor,  was  ready  for  action. 

No  sooner  had  the  Spanish  ships  appeared  than  a  hail  of 
shot  and  shell  fell  upon  them  from  the  Brooklyn,  Iowa,  Ore- 
gon, Texas,  and  the  small  auxiliary  cruiser  Gloucester,  used 
in  times  of  peace  as  a  steam  yacht.  The  Vizcaya,  Oquendo, 
Maria  Teresa,  and  Cristobal  Colon  answered  as  best  they 
could,  with  half-starved,  untrained,  undisciplined  crews,  who 
had  been  purposely  intoxicated  to  nerve  them  to  the  desper- 
ate attempt.  The  torpedo-boats  Pluton  and  Furor  made  some 
pretence  of  doing  the  work  for  which  they  were  designed, 
but  in  a  few  minutes  after  their  appearance  in  the  open  water 
both  were  in  flames  and  sinking. 

As  soon  as  they  cleared  the  harbor  the  four  big  ironclads 
turned  to  the  west,  and  a  running  fight  ensued.  It  was  not  for 
long,  however.  In  less  than  one  hour  from  the  time  their 
smoke  had  been  sighted  by  the  American  lookouts,  all  of 
them  but  the  Cristobal  Colon  were  hors  de  combat,  and  she 
was  making  a  desperate  effort  to  escape  from  the  deadly  gun- 
nery of  the  Oregon.  By  noon  all  of  the  Spanish  ships  were 
smoking  wrecks  in  the  shoal  waters  where  they  had  been 
beached  between  Santiago  and  Caimaneras.  Their  crews, 
with  the  exception  of  about  600  who  were  killed  in  the  fight, 
either  swam  to  shore  and  surrendered  to  the  Cuban  insurgents 
— who  would  have  butchered  them  had  it  not  been  for  the 
interference  of  the  American  launches — or  made  their  way 
more  directly  to  the  American  warships.  Among  those  who 
surrendered  their  swords  to  the  American  commanders  was 
Admiral  Cervera  himself. 

During  the  three  days'  operations  the  Americans  lost  on 
shore  about  1,500  men,  of  whom  230  were  killed;  while  the 
Spanish  losses  amounted  to  an  equal  number.  But  in  the  naval 
action  the  victors  had  but  one  man  killed  and  one  wounded. 

After  two  weeks  more  spent  in  parleys  between  Shafter 


434  DECISIVE   BATTLES 

and  Toral,  the  Spanish  commander  surrendered  the  whole 
province  of  Santiago,  with  22,000  Spanish  troops.  And  thus, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  ended  Spanish  rule  in  the  island 
of  Cuba,  after  three  hundred  and  ninety  years  of  a  misgovern- 
ment  so  shameful  that  Spain  herself  might  well  be  glad  to 
bury  the  whole  story  of  her  Cuban  occupation  in  oblivion. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


23Jur52Mf 


29Apr'57BP 
REOD  LD 


\nn«.   w   -1     AUG  I7  1957 


5410 

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uov 


REC'D  LD 

DEC  2  7  1957 


-, 50(2877sl6)476 


'  U  J^Tv^'o 


YC  36909 


9~  V> 


L  ' 


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